Broken Ties
by Havoc-Cheese590
Summary: This war, The Triangle War, has caused so much pain, confusion, and suffering. But has brought peace to the world...oh but at such a terrible cost...
1. Triangles

World peace… it is a beautiful thing. No one is fighting… no one is at war. There are no political problems. Everyone is helping each other out. Everyone is getting along famously. There is no tension. There are no rivalries. There are no grudges. There is no anger. There is no violence. Everyone is happy. Everyone can finally relax. Everyone can take a deep breath and not have to worry about bad things or events' happening since everyone is supporting each other. There is only peace.

But oh why did this have to happen to achieve it? This could have been avoided right? If only we tried harder. If only we had opened our eyes and seen how the world could be. Did all this bloodshed need to happen? Was it really necessary for such a blood bath to occur? Were we all really that arrogant and stubborn to let go of hard feelings, admit we were wrong, and fix our problems? Was our pride too important? Were our egos too big? Were we too afraid? If only we had faced these questions, if only we had taken on our problems, if only we had cast aside old feelings… maybe world peace could have been achieved… without the death of his sweet and beautiful life.

I guess to understand all of this up to this point you have to start at where this whole mess began. How this all started and over such a stupid reason… but if it was so stupid why did I fight in it? But anyway…

Ever since the war between Iraq and America the two had been on bad terms. They hadn't had the best relationship beforehand but after the war ended with Iraq pretty much shoving America out the two hated each other. Iraq's nerves were constantly on edge and she was practically drowning in unnecessary worry each day that someone would try to attack or invade. After twenty or so years of Iraq being terrified Russia took advantage of Iraq's sense of helplessness. He offered her nuclear weapons for protection in exchange for an alliance. Iraq was going to agree but America caught wind of the nuclear weapons and argued against it. The argument went on for about three or four months before America declared war on the both of them. Russia agreed to this war and asked Iraq to help him. She declined feeling angry towards Russia for throwing her into another war with America and declared war on Russia as well. Thus started what was originally called the "Triangle War".

No one knew so many other countries would get involved. It originally started off just the three of them in the war but then… oh God. Russia… he asked me and Japan to assist him in the war. I didn't know why he wanted me to help him though. In world war two I had been the founder of the axis and Japan was in the axis as well and Russia had been in the allies and yet he wanted me to help him. Being a military man I agreed and imported weapons to Russia in assistance while Japan sent some of his men to help the Russian army. Iraq found out about this advantage Russia had and then asked China to ally with her to make it even again and to get an advantage over America who was clueless to these alliances.

Russia and his now fairly large army attacked an unprepared America suddenly and without warning. They flew over America's capital in planes and soldiers parachuted to the ground. America had prepared a few troops in every state but the size of each group wasn't enough to take down the invading army. America pleaded for help from someone and Canada responded. Canada quickly got together a group of soldiers and immediately helped America. The two armies together pushed out the invading army and formed an alliance. Canada, being worried about his brother, asked Cuba to ally with America as well and Cuba agreed since he and Canada were such good friends.

Iraq, still having a fairly small army, decided to ally with another country since China was only importing weapons and was unable to send in men. She asked South Italy to help her and provide troops and he agreed. At first I had no clue why but then as I thought about it I figured out she was using reverse psychology. Since Russia had Japan and I as allies North Italy would obviously want to join and help out, but Iraq knew Italy loved his brother more than anything and would want to ally with whoever he was with. And that began what became the most grueling and bloody war of all time… and possibly the saddest and most heart breaking.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_~I'm drowning in words I dare not speak_

_Though it holding it in kills me_

_These words and feelings make me weak_

_And my love I cannot confess to thee~_

Germany mulled over his calendar and a migraine pounded in the back of his head. The imports that were supposed to be in Russia two days ago were still being built. The houses for Japan's army that he had to establish in his country were still under construction even though they were supposed to have furniture by now. And North Italy still hadn't responded to the letter of request he had sent him asking for his alliance.

His head pounded as all the five thousand things he needed to do came into his head and hung over him like a rain cloud. He sighed heavily and scrawled out new dates onto his already full calendar. He started to grumble to himself out of anger and frustration.

Germany had turned into the backbone of the Russian side really. He had started off just importing guns and ammo into Russia but then when the Japanese needed a place that wasn't freezing to stay, Russia asked him to provide the Japanese troops with temporary housing. Then he started having to plan invasions, strategies and all the things Russia should have been doing.

"This is _his _war! I was just dragged into this and now look! God I swear when this is all over-"

Germany was interrupted by a rapping on his office door. He looked up from his calendar and five thousand piles of paper work and said loudly," Come in."

"Germany?" The face of North Italy popped in through the door way and Germany felt slightly relieved. Italy had never responded to any of the calls, letters, or emails asking for alliance. He was actually just thinking about going to North Italy's house to ask him in person but Italy must have been able to read pain filled heads since he just saved Germany from having to leave his work.

"Come in, come in!" Germany waved Italy in and pulled up a chair for him.

Italy walked in nervously and warily almost. Germany had been so stressed out lately. Germany seemed so over worked and tired all the time. Always yelling and snapping at people unlike how he used to be. Germany used to get mad and annoyed yes, but not as often as he did now. Almost every other sentence was accented with an angered tone or heavy pitch. Germany seemed so down and upset all the time. It made his heart break to see Germany practically work himself to death. Italy hadn't been able to spend a day with Germany since the Triangle war started which was about four months ago. It made him feel so down to see his best friend so stressed out and in pain. He missed Germany so much.

Italy walked in and sat in the chair Germany had pulled up in front of the desk for him. He turned his gaze to the floor knowing what Germany was going to discuss. Italy had originally planned on pulling Germany out of his office and take him to lunch to try to calm his nerves but right as he knocked on Germany's door he remembered all the unanswered phone calls and letters.

"So Italy… how have you been doing?"

Germany didn't want to pounce on Italy right away. He knew how skittish and fearful the nation could be. Germany figured he would make light conversation and then ask him if he wanted to ally. Italy would join him in a second if persuaded him right.

"Fine I suppose… I haven't seen you in a while…" Sadness hung in the Italian's usually cheerful voice.

"Oh yeah I've been pretty busy lately with the war and all."

The mention of the war being brought into the conversation made Italy sigh and his heart sunk. Typical Germany, couldn't focus on anything else but work these days. Italy turned his head to the side avoiding Germany's eyes and slightly pouted. He wanted to talk to Germany about the things they used to. Like art and pasta of course! But no of course not, all Germany seemed to want to talk about was the war.

"Hey are you… alright?"

The look in Italy's eyes was worrying him. They usually shone with such happiness and joy but they had a certain look of sadness and hopelessness. It made his heart ache slightly and he reached for the Italian's shoulder. Just when his strong hand was about to touch the Italian's shoulder for comfort he heard Italy's voice.

"You… don't smile that much… do you?"

Germany's hand stayed suspended above Italy's shoulder as his words floated around in his mind. When _was_ the last time he smiled? And not a forced one for appearances, but a real ear to ear warm smile? He was at a loss for an answer.

"I-I guess not…"

Germany fell silent and retracted his arm. He sighed not wanting to upset Italy over war affairs. Italy seemed sad enough and these days, appeared to get even more upset when the war was brought up.

Suddenly he felt two fingers pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Turn that frown upside down!" Italy smiled at Germany has he pulled Germany's mouth into an attempted smile. But there was just something about Italy's own smile that seemed… so… sad…

Germany tried to force a smile and for some reason it hurt his heart even more. Italy who had always been so full of smiles and joy and laughter looked so sad even when he was smiling. He wished there was something he could do to bring back the joy and life into his eyes. He wished there was some way, any way, that he could make his best friend deeply happy again because it was apparent he wasn't.

Italy knew Germany was going to ask what side he was going to take soon. He didn't want Germany to but he knew he would. His smiled died and he sighed heavily. Germany would ask him and he would have to decide and the war would be brought up and all that…

But that wasn't the reason Italy had came to Germany's house. Actually it was quite far from the reason he had come over. The reason he came over was to tell, well confess really, something to Germany that he had been too scared to say for years now…

"Germany…I-I…" Italy cut off his own words and dropped his hands slowly. Another sigh escaped his mouth and the air made his curl float up.

"Italy what's the matter? " Germany asked this softly finally touching Italy's small shoulder. Italy's face went red and the words caught in his throat. He couldn't tell Germany now could he? It would be too bad of a time… right? There had to be a better time. When the war was over he would tell him. That would be a perfect time… but when would the war be over? Weeks? Months? _Years?_ And when exactly was a good time to tell someone this?

Really, when would be a good time to tell someone you loved them with all your heart?

"Italy…?"

"I'm fine really Germany! I-I'll be okay!" Italy started to back away from the much taller and much more muscular German… who, at the moment, was making his heart beat furiously.

"I-Is there something on your mind?"

Germany didn't exactly know how to comfort someone let alone the unpredictable Italy. And what would happen if he did tell him? Germany was exactly skilled in the area of compassion and sympathy…

"I-I have something to tell you…" Italy said nervously as he fiddled with his fingers and his face went red. He would have to tell Germany sometime and there was no time like the present right? He took a deep breath and started to speak.

"Well uhm you see I've been thinking lately and I've been trying to decide on something and-and I finally got the answer and uhm I think you need to know about it…" Italy was trying to beat around the bush hoping Germany would catch on at least a little.

"Oh? So… you've made a decision?" Germany's eyes widened at this prospect. However in his mind he was thinking Italy had made the decision to ally with him while Italy was on a completely different page.

"In a way yeah…I know that I uhm… and you-"

"THAT'S GREAT!"

Italy's gaze shot upward from his fingers and at Germany's hopeful face. He had barely even had to say anything and Germany had figured it out! He had… right?

"Wow Germany you can read minds?!"

Germany chuckled and said," No offense but you're not exactly that difficult to read! I knew you would choose me!"

"Yeah I kind of always have li-"

"Well now I can tell Russia you're on our side now and that gets a major thing of my to do list! Speaking of which I'm running out of space to put Japan's men would you mind-"

"Wait, what?!"

Germany was cut off and stared slightly confused and the even more lost man in front of him.

"You… you decided to side with me, Russia, and Japan! I'm just telling you what I need from you!"

"No Germany you don't underst-"

"I know you just joined but no rest for the weary! I mean it may be a lot to handle but-"

"I'm siding with Iraq!"

Germany's breath caught in his throat. He stared at Italy unbelieving and for a second his heart stopped. Italy had just said he would side with him and now he was going to Iraq?! It made absolutely no sense to him!

"WHAT?!"

"I'm going to Iraq's side!"

"But you just said you would side with me!" Anger and annoyance was growing thick in both of their voices and both their hearts were beating furiously, to what felt like the point of bursting out of their chests.

"No I didn't! You weren't even listening to me! I was going to tell I-"

"WHY?! WHY IN THE WORLD WOULD YOU JOIN _HER?!_"

"You're not listening! Germany I-"

"TELL ME WHY!!!"

Italy snapped.

"MY BROTHER IS THERE!!! AND HE _IS _FAMILY!! AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN ASK ME! YOU JUST EXPECTED ME TO SIDE WITH YOU!!! I MEAN YOU MEAN A LOT TO ME BUT HE'S MY BROTHER!!! And-and"

Italy started breathing heavy after screaming at Germany and turned his head downward to hide his tears.

"And that wasn't even the reason I came here…"

It made Italy so mad and upset that Germany wouldn't even give him two seconds to speak. He didn't want it to be this way. He didn't want to be mad at Germany. He didn't want Germany to be mad at him. He wanted the exact opposite. He was so confused. On one hand he wanted to side with Germany to make things easy but on the other hand he wanted to remain loyal to his family… But Germany still didn't know why he had even come over…

"Germany I came over here to tell you I lo-"

"Get out."

"What?" Italy looked up at Germany with shocked eyes and the words drove into his heart like knives.

"I said get out. Anyone who isn't an ally with me isn't a friend of mine. And they most certainly aren't welcome in my house."

Italy stood stunned and staring at Germany. No… no it wasn't supposed to happen like this! Germany seemed like… no he most positively hated him now. His heart broke in two and he wanted to say so many things. He was going to side with Germany but his twin had been harassing him to join his side as well. The truth was Italy was being pulled apart by the two people he loved the most in the world. He never knew it would hurt so much.

"Germany, no I-"

"Didn't you hear me you moron?! I said _**get out!"**_

Germany shoved the Italian by his shoulders and continued to push him out the door. With a final shove Italy was out of Germany's office and flew into the opposite wall. He tried to run back in only to have the door slammed in his face and locked.

Tears flooded into his eyes and he pounded on the door with his fists until they turned red.

"Germany! Germany! Let me explain! Germany! Please! Germany! LUDWIG!!!" Italy sobbed out Germany's name and got absolutely no response. He slumped down onto his knees and put his head against the door.

"I love you Ludwig… I really love you…" Italy whispered this and none of it was heard by the also sobbing Germany through the thick wooden door.

_Authors' Notes:_

_HC: Wow…I didn't know the first chapter would be so long! I put my blood, sweat, and tears into this! But I can't take ALL the credit! I just wrote this but Red Moon Dragon came up with the plot so kudos go to her as well! Thank you so much for reading and we'll see you in the next chapter!_

_Red Moon Dragon: Hello I'm Red Moon Dragon. I'm the creator f this plot and co-writer of this story! Thank you for reading! See you in the next chapter!_


	2. Bitter Cold

_~Do you hate me now?_

_I can't take back what I have done_

_Things have gotten so bad and how?_

_The end of my tears there is none_

No matter how many times Germany had to visit Russia, for whatever the reason may be, the gloomy and dark atmosphere always sent shivers up and down his spine. He supposed it was just the way the thorny vines of Russia's dead plants, which seemed almost alien like to him, wound around the path leading up to the front door. Or perhaps it was the way the windows had a white frost coating the outside making it impossible to see the room that lay on the inside. Or maybe perhaps, and this was probably the reason, it was the scary and eerie man who resided in this very house.

Germany would never admit he was even the slightest bit _afraid _of Russia. Oh no that would be too cowardice for him! He was Germany! The fearless and powerful Germany who would never crack or fall! …Or so _he _liked to think. Even though he was allied with Russia there was just a certain vibe Russia gave off that always made him feel as if he was in danger. Who could blame him though? These days Russia had grown even more unpredictable and violent to almost the point of complete insanity.

As Germany's feet thudded along the concrete walkway his skin prickled with goose bumps and his stomach tightened into a knot. He tried taking deep breaths but it did very little to his anxiety. He wouldn't have been as anxious if it was just a strategy meeting or if Japan had accompanied him. And if he had been coming to deliver good news the anxiety may have not even have been there.

But no, of course not. He was here to inform Russia that Italy was not going to ally with him and was going to Iraq's side. And of course Germany had to open his big mouth a few weeks previous guaranteeing Italy's assistance. Russia had smiled at him somewhat creepily and said with an almost eerie and giddy tone," I'll be able to hold you to that da?"

Germany sighed and tried to focus on something else as he walked the few remaining feet to Russia's heavy front door.

Trying to distract himself Germany started talking to himself quietly. "Alright what happened yesterday? I did paperwork (big shock there), I ate some wurst (which were undercooked), Italy stopped by-"

At the thought of Italy, Germany's heart started to ache with pain. He remembered hearing Italy's sobs and pleading screams through the thick wooden door. He remembered the sound of Italy's fists pounding on the door demanding re-entry. Germany could practically see Italy's face, cheeks red and tear soaked, as he yelled through the door. Germany felt horrible for not opening the door and offering some comfort to Italy, but Italy was on the opposing side of the war so he did what he was supposed to. He did… right?

The conversation, or more of screaming match, replayed itself unwillingly in Germany's head as his heavy footsteps continued up the concrete walkway.

"_I said get out. Anyone who isn't an ally with me isn't a friend of mine. And they most certainly aren't welcome in my house."_

"_Germany no I-"_

"_Didn't you hear me you moron?! I said __**get out**_!"

His words were harsh and mean. Italy had been his only true friend. Italy was always there, standing next to Germany. Whether it was cooking him dinner he didn't really want or annoying the hell out of him or even holding his hand a couple times, he was always there. He didn't realize how close Italy really was until he had pushed him away. Germany slightly panicked at the thought of this being permanent. Would Italy ever invite him over for pasta again? Would Italy ever call him in a fit of hysteria begging to be saved from other nations he was captured by? Would Italy ever even speak to him again? Germany knew how fragile the Italian's heart was and it could be broken easily. Oh God did Italy _hate _him?

Germany sighed loudly from confusion as he finally reached the door. As if his mind wasn't confused and busy enough, this new issue just had to come and mess him up further. He gripped the heavy brass knocker on Russia's front door and banged it loudly. The noise of the brass hitting the fairly thick wooden door was almost creepy in a way. It conjured up images of old horror movies Italy had forced him to watch with him.

And yet again Germany's heart ached with more memories of Italy. In a way he was relieved when Russia opened the door and distracted him from his thoughts.

"Ah, Germany! I wasn't expecting you! Our meeting isn't until next Tuesday da?"

"This is sort of an emergency meeting I suppose."

Russia tilted his head slightly in confusion and in question.

"I hope this about making advancement and getting the upper hand somehow…"

"Unfortunately no, this is more of bad news."

Russia's eyes darkened and Germany suddenly felt intimidated. Germany tried not to look to nervous with Russia standing over him threateningly but it was pretty difficult to hide. Those piercing violet eyes, cold as the snow that covered the Russian's land, made him nervous and uncomfortable to no extent.

After for what seemed like an eternity of awkward silence Russia opened the door wider and simply stated," Come in."

Nothing sounded less appealing.

Germany stepped into the rather spacious, not to mention cold, house. He had been in here many times over the past couple of months but it never seemed to lose that "there are dangerous weapons in here including myself that I could use to kill you with" feeling. But given the fact that Russia is Russia, Germany really couldn't expect any different.

He was lead to the sitting room which was to the right of the foyer and it was also where they held their meetings. It was small with a simple wooden round table and four chairs placed around it. There was nothing on the walls, no pictures, no wallpaper, just white. Except for the small window that didn't even open, the walls were completely bare. That just added to the creepy atmosphere and Germany wondered if this was intentional.

Russia sat across from Germany at the small table and the wood slightly moaned in protest. _"Russia is obviously too big for those small wooden chairs and would probably be better off with ones made of metal…but then again metal, when used as a blunt force object, does more damage…" _

Germany decided, for his own sake, to keep this thought to himself.

Russia laced his fingers together and brought them up so he could rest his head on them.

"So what exactly is this bad news?" Russia asked this in a calm, almost eerie tone of voice that caused Germany's skin to crawl.

He cleared the lump in his throat and tried his best to explain without angering the obviously annoyed Russian more.

"As you know on your side of this war, allies wise, you have me and Japan and you also requested Italy's aliment. You asked me to get him to ally with us and I did… well I tried. I sent him emails, letters, called him numerous times requesting his assistance, but he never replied to any of them. I was going to go over to his house yesterday and ask him in person when-"

"Stop beating around the bush Germany, I am very busy."

"_You're busy?! You think you're busy?! This is your war and I'm practically fighting it _for _you! I'm the busy one here!" _Germany angrily thought this when Russia claimed he was busy. A stomach ache threatened Germany and he tried his best to hide his anger.

"This has to do with Italy's aliment da?"

"Da-I mean yes…" Germany corrected himself as exhaustion and exasperation swept over him.

"Has he agreed to ally with me? You promised me he would."

Germany solemnly shook his head and sensed his death was near.

"No he is going to ally with Iraq."

Russia remained silent and glared at Germany. His face was darkened by shadows and Germany was suddenly very eager to see if he could squeeze through that tiny window on the wall.

"Why?" Russia asked this slowly and drawn out almost in an evil whisper.

Germany tried to remember back to the previous day when Italy had been yelling at him. He preferred not to think about it but he now figured he had no choice. He tried to ignore the image of Italy's hurt face yelling at him as he restated what he had said.

"He wants to be with his brother… he wants to remain loyal to his family I suppose…"

"And you couldn't persuade him otherwise? He's a very naïve and foolish country da?"

"You would think so but he's actually capable of some deep thoughts…" Germany trailed off and unwillingly remembered a surprisingly intellectual conversation they had had one time while eating lunch after training a few years back.

They had been eating small lunches and Italy had asked Germany just out of the blue what he was afraid of. This caught Germany off guard so he just shrugged and said nothing I suppose. Italy prodded his shoulder and reasoned with there had to be something he was afraid of. Germany thought long and hard and finally answered with he was afraid of spiders. Italy laughed for a minute and chewed on his pasta thoughtfully for a few minutes. After a few minutes of silence with only the noise of the wind blowing Italy admitted," I'm afraid of being alone."

Russia snapped his fingers loudly and Germany's head was ejected from the clouds. Germany realized Russia had said something and asked nervously," I'm sorry what did you say?"

"I said 'so he won't change his mind?'"

Germany shook his head. "I'm betting on no."

Russia sighed and gazed out the small window. "Well I guess it can't be helped then… we'll have to find allies somewhere else."

"What about your sisters Ukraine and Belarus?"

"I'd prefer not to bring my family into this. They left once before and I don't think I can trust them to do any different now."

Sadness lingered in the Russian's voice and he avoided looking at Germany. Obviously that was the wrong subject to bring up.

"I could get Lithuania to ally with us along with Estonia and Latvia." Germany knew Russia had control of them for a while so they would certainly ally. Or so he thought.

"No they wouldn't want to. Latvia is quite terrified of me and Estonia wouldn't go anywhere without Latvia so they're out of the question. And Liet…"

Russia's voice saddened even more and Germany feared Russia was about to cry.

"Liet decided not to speak to me anymore… I haven't heard from him in years… I doubt he'd even pick up the phone if I called him. Liet probably hates me for what I have done…"

Memories of cold nights with only Lithuania to warm them floated into Russia's head and he gripped his chest where his heart was currently breaking.

"Russia are you all-"

"Germany… please leave." Russia barely managed to get this out in a pained whisper. It seemed every one was an emotional wreck in this war. Instead of arguing with the nation Germany nodded and stood up to leave. Right as he was about to exit the sitting room a faint voice called out to him.

It was almost that of a child's asking for its mother after a nightmare.

"Germany?"

"Yes?"

"If I were you… I would forget about Italy… he's a traitor. He won't ally with us so to us… he is useless. He used to be your friend da? He isn't anymore. Friends are supposed to be with you through all your hard times da? Well where is he now?"

Germany was about to argue. He was going to yell at the Russian for being so cold. Italy was the only one he had fond memories of! Italy was the person he spent the most time with! How could he just forget about him?! Germany was about to argue with this until he realized what Russia had said and realized grimly it held truth.

"_Friends are supposed to be with you through all your hard times da? Well where is he now?"_

Air came out of Germany's mouth and realization hit him. Italy was supposed to be his friend and be with him through hard times. He even remembered when they first allied back in World War 2 how Italy promised to save him when he was in a pinch and vice versa.

Well here he was. In the biggest trouble ever and where was Italy? Helping out someone else.

Germany, feeling defeated and no more need to argue, closed his agape mouth and exited out the door leaving the Russian to his own pain. He quietly closed the front door as to not make a disturbance and walked down the same way he had come. Along the cold concrete pathway, unhappy and confused.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Italy pay attention when I'm talking to you!"

A hand came and met Italy's cheek in a hard slap. He immediately snapped out of his day dream and focused on the woman in front of him.

She reached with the hand she had used to slap his face and readjusted the scarf on her head. The scarf hid the feminine definitions of her face and only allowed for the tips of her long dark brown hair to be seen. Her hands were the only part of her body that showed the sun tanned color of her skin.

"_Iraq would be so much prettier if she wasn't so mean…"_

"Did you hear anything I said?" She questioned Italy, her voice showing annoyance.

"Not really."

Iraq sighed and felt a head ache worming its way into her temples. She rubbed them with her fingers as she argued with herself in her head.

"_Maybe this was a bad idea! I mean look at him! I've been trying to explain his duties to him for the past half hour but he hasn't heard a word I said! I should have let that jerk Russia deal with him! Wait no then they would think I couldn't handle it and would figure I'm weak! And Germany put up with this guy for years! And what if I tried to hand him over and they didn't take him! I'd be a laughing stock! And they would also aim for him first! Try to take him out first since it's obvious that he's my weak spot in this-"_

Suddenly Italy's soft voice interrupted her rambling thoughts.

"Aasera I'm so-"

"Don't address me by my name! You will call me Iraq! Is that clear?"

"Y-Yes ma'am!"

"Now as I was saying you will do exactly what you're brother is doing. You'll be providing troops and this makes it easier for the both of since you don't have to spilt up your army. If you sided with anyone else you'd basically have only half an army but this way you have a whole one. And it also helps me because-"

"You like to ramble don't you Iraq?"

"SHUT UP! I wasn't done talking to you!"

Italy again felt silent.

"Anyway you will supply men, while China is supplying weapons. Make sure you're men get used to the feel of them alright? I suggest four or five hours of training. Understood?"

Italy wasn't sure if he should speak to the annoyed nation or not so he just nodded.

"Okay now we're getting somewhere. Also you are not to speak or interact with anyone on the opposing sides."

"What?! Why not?!"

"Obvious reasons you idiot! They are our enemies! You know people we're trying to defeat and not lose to! If you talked to them you give away all our secrets and plans and everything important that could gives us the upper hand! Talking to the enemy would be like-"

"But Iraq Germany is on the other side… and I need to tell him something!"

Italy remembered back to how his previous conversation with Germany had gone. His stomach was in knots the entire night and tears soaked his pillow. He remembered the anger and rage in Germany's voice and how he had said they weren't friends anymore.

He didn't want that. Germany was his best friend and he wanted it to stay that way. Maybe it would be better not to tell Germany he loved him, Germany was angry enough. But he needed to apologize to Germany, he just had to. He didn't want Germany to hate him. He didn't want Germany to be mad at him.

"What in the world is so damned important that you have to go to the enemy for?"

"I have to tell him I'm sorry!"

"For what?!" The pain in Iraq's temples was now excruciating.

"Because I allied with you. He was mad so I have to-"

"Then why the hell are you even here if you don't want him to be mad at you! If he's so much of a friend to you get the hell out of here and go apologize and say you want to ally with him! You've known him longer! And if it's favorites you're playing why did you pick me?! I mean really! You spend all your time with him so-"

"So is that a no?"

"Damn right it's a no! Not only is a it a no, it is a hug fat NO! Absolutely not! And if I find out anytime that you have snuck or are planning to sneak to see him you will be punished accordingly! Do I make myself clear?"

Italy stared at fuming woman in all the scarves. Italy knew it was of no use arguing with her and he sighed. He nodded sadly and stared down at his feet. Italy couldn't cry in front of Iraq… she would probably hit him for that too…

"Alright now that we have an understanding you are dismissed. Feel free to go home or train or whatever…" Iraq took a seat back at her desk and leaned forward on her elbows exasperated. She felt like there was a bass drum beating loudly and continuously in her head. Iraq closed her eyes and listened to the quiet sounds of the Italian getting out of his chair and quietly closing the door on his way out.

Italy made his way down the hall towards the front door and made up his mind on Iraq. Iraq was a smart and pretty lady but she was very strict and she liked to ramble a lot. He remembered back to a few moments ago and counted three times where he interrupted her long drawn out speeches and scolding. She actually reminded him a lot of Germany. She was strict, she could be nice, she seemed to get fed up a lot… but she wasn't Germany.

"_I need to see Germany… I need to see Germany! But Iraq said I couldn't and that I would be punished… wait she said if she found out that I would be punished… so if I don't get caught… I can see Germany! I just have to be careful! What she doesn't know won't hurt her right?! And it's not like I'm telling Germany strategies or anything! I'm just apologizing! He seemed so angry yesterday…"_

Italy walked down the hall of Iraq's house thinking to himself. His brother was expecting him home in two hours. Iraq had finished telling him his duties early so that gave him two hours of free time. His brother would never know if he snuck to Germany and apologized right? And as long as Germany didn't tell then no one would ever know!

Excitement and anticipation grew in Italy's stomach and as soon as he was out of eye shot of Iraq's house, he bolted in the direction of Germany.

_HC: Hey guys! Thank you all so much for all the wonderful reviews on the first chapter! It warmed both of our hearts to read the wonderful praises we got! We're both so glad you like the first chapter!_

_Apologies to those same people who wrote those wonderful reviews because I took so long to update. I feel awful leaving you all emotionally in suspense and such. I was very busy but I promise it won't happen again! Chapter 3 shall be written and posted soon! _

_Thank you all for reading! See you in the next chapter!_

_RedMoonDragon: Wow, so now Iraq and Russia has entered the scene, all we need now is America and the triangle is complete! Sorry it took so long to update, to make up for it I drew an illustration of Chapter 1 and 2 I hope you guys like them! See you soon!_


	3. Paranoia

_~Under watchful eyes we are kept_

_I cannot see you and fix this mess_

_Though your decision I have to accept_

_I still wish to me you would have said yes~_

The heavy thumping of Germany's boots was the only sound that could be heard on the cobble stone streets. The sound of his shoes reminded Germany of a heart beat. The steady continuous thumping and pumping of a heart. A heart beat… a sad and lonely heart beat, the beat that his heart seemed to be playing.

His eyebrows were pulled together and his lips were pressed together tightly forming a line across his face. His eyes, cold and blank, hid his ocean of emotions. He had never felt this bad or upset before in his life. He was mad and hurt and sad and confused and so very lonely. Sure he had Russia and Japan on his "side" but they weren't his best friends. They weren't the ones who always greeted Germany with a warm smile and a loving hug. They weren't the ones that force fed him when they worried that he was getting too skinny. They weren't the ones that kept him company when all he needed was a friend or someone to talk to. They weren't Italy.

Every single person in the world needs someone. Just one person to mean everything and to share things with and to love, and that included Germany no matter how much he liked to be alone. Germany, no matter how stubborn he was and hated to admit it, needed Italy. He needed him now more than ever. He had been right next to him for years and this war, where he had two main opponents instead of just one, had him so stressed out and quite frankly a bit scared.

He wished Italy was there to cheer him up or to promise him some silly thing like pasta or some other kind of food. He wished he could hear the soft music of Italy's singing. He wished he could take back the mean things he said. He could have been more accepting right? He tried to understand where Italy was coming from. Sure they were best friends and were close but family is family. If Prussia was still alive and in a war then he would- well maybe that wasn't the _best _example.

Germany continued walking down the unusually cold streets of his country, pulling his jacket tighter around his shoulders. The wind blew slightly causing his skin to prickle with goose bumps and he again wished Italy was there… there just so that he could… apologize… say he was sorry…ask him why he sided with Iraq…make sure they were still friends…

Suddenly he heard another pair of footsteps. They were fast and light and they were coming from behind him. He turned to see who it was nervously since the footsteps sounded like they were running. He saw in the distance a figure, a person, running fast, almost in a panic…? Were they running from something? Were they hurt on in trouble? Who was it?! It was dark so he couldn't tell but he could tell by the way they were running they were in some sort of rush or panic.

Wait what if it was an enemy? No they wouldn't be that obvious would they? Or maybe this person was just a distraction and there was a massive army waiting to capture him any second! His hand went instinctively and quickly to his belt where his gun rested in its holster. His heart beat furiously as the figure in the distance continued to run closer to him. Germany squinted and strained his eyes in attempt to at least define whether this figure was a man or a woman.

No, it was too dark to see and dim street lamps that cast only shadows onto the cold street offered little assistance. Finally Germany, with the handle of his gun in hand while it remained half way into the holster called out to try to identify the strange figure.

"Who are you? What business do you have here?" He called this out strongly and since his voice was naturally deep it carried fairly easily to the distressed person. The person stopped running and stood there for a few second almost stupidly. Germany still couldn't make out the face or body but he could see that the person held a confused pose. Their legs looked like they wanted to keep running but stood stiff as if unsure what to do. The arms hung lamely at their side and the head looked like it was straining to see Germany. Well if Germany himself couldn't see that well why would this person have an easier time? And who knows maybe this person was lost and afraid. He again called out in a louder voice.

"Hello? Are you hurt? Is something wrong?"

The figure's head jerked as if in recognition and resumed running but even faster this time. They looked even more frantic, almost desperate! As it came closer into view he could see it was a man. Smaller than him, he seemed somewhat strong by the way he was running, short hair… and he seemed very familiar.

But why was he running so fast towards him? Was he going to attack? No he couldn't be _that _stupid could he?! Well this was war and better to be safe then… well dead.

"Hey! Stay back! I'm warning you I have a gun and I'm not afraid to use-"

"GERMANY IT'S ME!!!"

"…!"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Iraq sighed in relief as the pain in her head finally faded. After removing her head dress, having the heaviness of it lifted off her skull, she leaned her head into her folded arms and closed her eyes to rest. She hadn't been sleeping that well lately due to all her worry and stress, but now her desk never seemed more of an inviting place to nap.

She exhaled heavily and sleep seemed to greet her rather quickly. She surrendered herself to it and allowed the cloud of drowsy comfort to carry her away. Away from the worry of the war, away from her problems, away from the issues, away from everything even if just for a little bit. Her thoughts started to dull and her breathing became deeper, the first stages of sleep at promise. Just as waves of half sleep swept over her like a comforting blanket her head shot up and she gasped from the alerting and startling sound of the telephone.

Her heart pounded from being snapped out of her half-asleep state and she continued to stare at the bothersome telephone for a few seconds. Had anyone promised to call her back with updates or reports? No, not that she could remember… and Italy had just left so it couldn't be him. People didn't call Iraq randomly that much…well actually people didn't call Iraq at random period. After composing her breathing and state of mind for a few moments she picked up and answered formerly, a hint of question in her voice.

"Good evening this is Iraq."

"Hello there, good evenin' to you too."

The voice was distorted and manipulated on purpose. It sounded computer generated and was concealing the anonymous caller's voice quite well except for a slight accent which she couldn't place. Iraq made a skeptical face and stared at the phone wondering dumbly if she stared hard enough, that the face of the caller would seep through.

"I have some news that I think you might find interesting." The voice continued snapping her out of her frustrated and irritated daze.

"Who is this?"

"_Stupid question Aasera! If this person wanted their identity to be known they wouldn't be use a voice distorter! Really! I mean how obvious is that? Even Italy would probably be smart enough to figure _that _one out! The idiot who doesn't use his brain would outsmart you! Well I haven't been sleeping all that much and I have been so busy that it _is _wearing me down! And everyone makes mistakes right? And-"_

Iraq shook her head and it snapped her out of another one of her dazes. She really had to work on this rambling and going on thing…

But despite her zoning out she didn't hear the voice or the response to her question, which she hoped they wouldn't mock her for.

Finally the voice broke the awkward silence. "You don't need to know that. But I think you should know something else… something pretty important!"

Iraq looked around her, paranoid that someone was in the room with her waiting to strike after emerging from the shadows or from the closet. Iraq clicked on the lights and saw that she was in fact alone in her office.

"What makes you think it's important? Why should I even listen to you? I don't even know who or _what_ you even are! Give me one good reason why I should believe this 'important information'! You could be making it all up! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't _hang up the phone!_ I don't even know why I'm talking to you! You're obviously trying to make me paranoid-"

"Oh believe me you don't need any help in the paranoia department!"

Iraq's mouth was agape and her eyebrows furrowed from insult. She was not paranoid... Well not paranoid _much…_ right?

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?!"

The voice sounded like it was either clearing its throat or trying to stifle a laugh. Iraq held the phone to her ear with one hand and her other hand was clenched into a fist trying not to snap a pen.

"Nothing! Nothing!"

Iraq rolled her eyes and her patience was dwindling.

"Well if you have this information which is so important would you mind just telling me? I don't exactly have all night to argue."

"Oh right well you see it's about one of your allies…"

Iraq's head jerked in question.

"My allies…?"

"Yes, North Italy to be specific. I'm guessing you don't want him to speak with opposing sides yes?"

"H-How did you…?"

"Lucky guess, but I think you would be interested to know that he is in fact on his way to Germany at this very moment."

Iraq's stomach boiled with anger towards the Italian. She specifically told him he was absolutely not allowed to speak with any enemies! And she made it perfectly clear he was not to sneak off to Germany! And she had told him this all a matter of ten or fifteen minutes ago! But wait! How did this person know that Italy was headed to Germany?! Oh no was he already there?!

"How do you know th-"

"Italy's house is exactly North West from yours right?"

"Yes that's correct…"

"He's running more northward than west which according to a map leads straight to Germany."

Iraq pictured an atlas in her head and found that the voice was right. But other countries were in that direction as well! So Iraq reasoned at loud.

"Well that direction also leads to Austria and Hungary as well! Italy used to be under the control of-"

"What business would he have with Austria this many years later? And what business would he have with Hungary at all?"

Iraq was at a loss for words. Not only were they right but they knew the basics of the conversation, or more of argument, she had had with Italy previously. And also maybe even more importantly they knew exactly what Italy was doing! Iraq knew the exact reason Italy was going to Germany but… did this person know that too? She feigned ignorance and panic from the unknown and questioned," Why would he do that?!"

The voice fell silent. Iraq smiled to herself and leaned back in her chair. So there was still a chance that this voice was making it all up. That lie really could have been made up fairly easily since Italy was so easy to read. Iraq, and other countries that were in their right mind, of course wouldn't want their ally conversing with an opposing force! That was just common sense! And Italy going to Germany would be pretty easy to figure out as well since the two were inseparable… well more like Italy refused to separate from Germany.

But she couldn't help wonder what this person's motive was. It couldn't have been Russia or Germany himself! If they wanted to capture Italy calling her would just give it away. Iraq thought of the surrounding countries from the path from her house to Germany's.

Turkey was pretty close by and Italy would have had to pass through his land to get to the European continent again. Iraq and Turkey had never gotten along and he was always pulling pranks on her so it could very well be him! Oh wait no it couldn't have since Iraq remembered Turkey laughing loudly over how Greece had invited him over for a rematch of a fight they had had the previous week. That rematch was today so it wasn't the Turk on the other line.

There was Hungary along the way there as well. Iraq had hardly ever spoken to the girl but she knew Italy used to be like a little brother to Hungary. Maybe she was trying to protect him in some weird way? Hungary also had some strange taste for two men in love with each other so maybe she was living out some fantasy? No, she wouldn't do that knowing a war was going on. She seems like she has a pretty decent head on her shoulders.

Romania was also along the pathway. She and Italy were siblings but Romania was always denying it, even though both were off springs of Rome and Italy had insisted that they were. Romania had also been in the axis but she seemed to ignore Italy most of the time so there was no reason she should be involved.

Austria? No he was too straight laced and proper to get involved in pranks.

So who was this person on the other line?

Suddenly the voice interrupted her train of thought.

"I believe he's headed there to apologize for something."

Panic took over Iraq's body and she slammed the phone back onto the hook. Her breathing became harsh and her heart started to pound. Someone was watching her! Were they in the house?! Where were they?! **Who **were they?! A cold sweat broke out along her hairline and she was shaking violently as she picked up the phone again calling her men.

Iraq, due to her never ending worry, had placed men all over the country in squads of three or four to protect the most important things. She had handpicked them from her troops and stationed them all over her land to protect the borders, landmarks, and of course her house. They were fast, strong, and got the job done at any cost.

Iraq picked up the phone and pressed the speed dial one button which automatically connected her to the captain.

"Hello Ms. Iraq, what do you need?"

"Someone is watching me! They may be in the house or outside! They know about my conversation with Italy!! They know! I don't know what they're planning but I know that they're planning something against me! Please help!"

"Okay Ms. Iraq please try to calm down. Where do you need security and how many men?"

"I need four or five in my house protecting me-"

"No problem."

"-And also I need whoever is close to the border to go retrieve someone…"

"We are at your service miss."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Italy had started to run as soon as he heard the dogs and the sound of Iraq's men. He looked behind him and sure enough in the distance were ten men or so running after him yelling. His heart started to pound and he ran away from them terrified. He stayed on the path to Germany's and still intended to see him men chasing him or not. When Italy wanted to run he sure could run.

Hoping to lose them a bit Italy dashed through a nearby alley way that led to a short cut that he found a few months ago. He was right near the Austrian-German border and this short cut would have him in Germany's land in less than five minutes. The path though, if you didn't know it, was hard to follow. Italy of course could navigate it in his sleep but the men who were chasing him may have had some trouble since it involved so many turns and it was getting hard to follow Italy since the sun was setting.

Italy had to admit they were pretty fast but he was faster since he was technically retreating. After a few more twists and turns through and around alleys and a climb over a small brick wall the border was in sight. Italy's feet moved even faster and he hoped with all his heart that Germany would listen to what he had to say. He didn't have much time since the men were probably smart enough to find another way to get to Germany and follow him. Italy at first wondered why these guys were chasing him but then figured they probably had something to do with Iraq. Italy had to apologize quickly but convincingly and also tell Germany the real reason he had come to visit him a couple days ago in the first place.

Well… this was going to be a challenge. He couldn't exactly think about what he was going to say since he was focused on where Germany would even be at this time of the day. The sun was fully set and the stars were starting to come out. Let's see Germany would either be walking his dogs, or by himself, or he would be at home bathing. Something told Italy Germany would have an easier time accepting his apology if he was doing the first thing.

He also was focused on how far ahead of what he figured were Iraq's guards he was. He couldn't hear them any more so he guessed he was about five minutes or so ahead of them. Hopefully that would be enough time.

Suddenly a figure came into Italy's view. It was tall, muscular from what he could see, and short hair. Obviously it was a man…but was it Germany…? He tried to call out to it but he was out of breath from running. He tried to keep moving but his energy was starting to dwindle. The figure turned to see him and looked… nervous? He was going to call out to it and ask who it was but then he heard the voice. It was deep and loud, just like Germany's. It sounded like him but it was still a little faint so he couldn't tell if it really was him. He stopped running and walking all together and strained to see if it was him.

Suddenly it called out to him again.

"Hello? Are you hurt? Is something wrong?"

Italy heard this and he immediately knew it was Germany. His energy suddenly returned and he raced forward to Germany, too excited and hopeful to identify himself.

"Hey! I have a gun and I'm not afraid to use-"

Italy realized that Germany didn't know it was him since it was dark and the street lamps were dim and Italy hadn't said a word. He voice bubbled in the back of his throat and he felt so many things at once as he yelled out. Hopeful, scared, nervous, happy, and excited.

"GERMANY IT'S ME!!!"

Germany's mind clicked as he recognized the voice as Italy's. His face lit up and he ran to meet Italy half way. He was thinking so many things and couldn't think of the right way to piece them together. So many things came to his mind. Italy I'm sorry, are we still friends, I don't hate you, don't hate me, I miss you, I need you, you're my best friend.

Not wanting to wait and fearful that Italy would, for some reason, turn and run away from him he started to yell out his apology while he was running.

"Italy I'm sorry! I'm sorry I got so upset! It was just because you sided with someone other than me and I was surprised that's all! I understand why you allied with Iraq and its okay! I'm not mad! I didn't mean to scream at you! I was mad and confused but, please forgive me!"

Italy's face brightened and the gap between him and Germany was only a few feet. Germany thought he was mad at him?! Italy laughed out loud from the irony and smiled widely. He tried to think of a way to apologize but his mind was so overfilled with joy and hope that he acted on the whim of his heart.

Casting aside his original plans and nervous feelings, Italy met Germany's lips with his own in a passionate and loving kiss.

"I love you Germany!"

And suddenly Italy felt himself being shoved away from the German.

_HC: Oh God I am so sorry! I took almost a month to update! I am a horrible person! This chapter would have arrived ages ago but I was so busy since I just graduated from middle school. And then of course I had to go and catch the stomach flu and get a super high fever making it so that I couldn't work! I really do feel awful for making you guys wait so long!_

_I have come up with a plan that should, if it works, produce a chapter every 1-2 weeks! Cross your fingers!_

_And thank you to everyone who keeps coming back to check for updates, and those who read and favorite and review or add me to your subscription or the story to your alert! I appreciate every single one! Thank you so much for reading and I'll see you in chapter four!!_

_RedMoonDragon: I'm sorry too it took so long to update this chapter!! I hope this chapter illustration can make up for consolation; it has Iraq's design on it. Thank you for everyone who reviewed our story, we appreciate it so much, and cross your fingers! I also would like to thank anyone who likes the illustrations too; it fuels our anticipation to finish this story. Demo~ I'll see you at the next chapter!_


	4. Double Cross

_~I shall only cry dry tears_

_And I shall pretend you're hear_

_It's painful to have you in my heart_

_But in my soul you shall never part~_

"Germany, are you listening to me at all?!"

Germany's gaze shot from watching the snow fall peacefully and slowly to the ground outside, to the angry Russian sitting merely inches from him. He immediately straightened his posture and looked directly at him.

"I'm sorry but would you mind repeating the last thing you said?"

Russia sighed and dropped his gaze shaking his head.

"If Germany isn't going to take this war seriously then what is he even doing here?" Russia asked in almost a helpless voice. Germany was going to snap at him and argue that he was the one that was taking care of everything and if anyone wasn't taking the war seriously it was Russia, but then he saw the sad look in the man's eyes. His violet eyes looked like they were pleading with him, ready to cry and burst into tears. The life in them seemed to be missing and they seemed so hopeless and lost. And God they were so full of pain.

Germany sighed and held his tongue.

"You seemed like you were very deep in thought…what were you thinking about?" Japan, who was sitting on the other side of the table, asked speaking up.

"Nothing, nothing at all…"

That was probably one of the biggest lies Germany had ever told.

Germany was thinking about and remembering the look of absolute hurt on Italy's face when he had shoved him away.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_Italy eyes showed what looked like the greatest pain in the world when Germany shoved him away. Italy stumbled back a few feet and looked at Germany unable to speak. His stomach was in a knot from every emotion that he was feeling. Hurt, pain, love, admiration, confusion, fear, and some other things he didn't even have words for. He had just told Germany he loved him and kissed him, finally making his feelings known, only to be rejected. The sting of Germany's strong hands shoving him away by his shoulders barely even compared to the sting in his heart. In fact his heart felt like it was breaking into a million pieces._

_Germany stood a few feet away from him with his eyes wide and his heart pounding. Did Italy just say he _loved_ him?! And to add onto that kissed him! On the mouth!_

_He was too shocked and surprised to say anything. He could barely even move! Shoving Italy away was his natural reaction, but now he wished he wouldn't have because of the heart breaking look on Italy's face. Italy's eyes were wide and glassy with tears. His arms were spread slightly from his body, still in position from hugging Germany. His mouth was slightly agape from surprise, but oh God those eyes._

_His eyes which usually held so much happiness and joy and life now looked so desperate and hurt and sad. It made Germany want to just die._

"_I-Italy, I-I-I…" Germany couldn't even think of the right words to say to comfort Italy. What would you say to someone you just rejected? There really was no nice or painless way of doing it. No matter how he worded it in his mind all of them sounded hurtful and vicious._

"_Italy…"_

_In Italy's own mind he was trying to think of why Germany would have rejected him. Germany never seemed to mind all the times when Italy clung to him and hugged him. Sure he had gotten mad when he popped in on his shower a few times but who wouldn't? Germany had even kissed his cheeks before! _

_Could it be about the fight they had had a few days previous? Maybe Germany was still mad about that and was confused with Italy's actions! Maybe he thought Italy hated him and was just surprised that he didn't! And maybe it also had to do with his position in the war. Maybe Germany thought Italy was only doing this to gain intelligence and get an advantage somewhere, like find his weak spot or a vulnerable point! _

_Italy figured it would take just a bit more convincing to make Germany realize he was telling the truth!_

"_Germany I'm not lying! I really do love you! I love you a lot! If you think this a trick or a lie, I promise it's not! I've loved you for a really really long time! I swear I love you Germany!"_

_But before Germany could say anything in response, Italy was grabbed unexpectedly by men and dragged away quicker than when he arrived. _

_Germany knew these were Iraq's men from the color of their hair and skin and by their accents. He remembered how their strong arms had grabbed Italy so roughly, picking him up slightly but mostly dragging him. But he couldn't get the image of Italy screaming and kicking out of his head as they dragged him away._

"_**Germany!!! I love you!!!"**_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

These words replayed in Germany's head over and over like a song stuck on repeat. They stung, they hurt, and they confused him. He had never heard someone tell him that they loved him before. Sure his people said 'I love Germany' but they meant the land not him. It felt weird to him. It almost…tingled. Every time he heard the words in his head it was like a process his body and heart went through. His stomach would feel like it was flipping, his heart would hammer so hard it would feel like it stopped beating, his breath would catch, his face would flame, and he would forget where he was for a few seconds.

Then came the pain. His mind would throw out all kinds of rationalizations and explanations. His heart would start to hurt more and more with every beat and his stomach would feel sick.

Germany was so confused he wasn't even sure what to feel anymore.

He decided to at least try and focus on the meeting in attempt to get his mind off of it. It was hard and the issue with himself and Italy remained in the back of his mind, but at least it gave him something else to think about.

"So Russia is there a reason you called us here today?" Germany asked, finally putting his head into the meeting.

"Actually yes there is, my apologies to you Germany for calling so early."

It's true; Russia had called Germany around seven that morning for a meeting. It didn't really matter though since Germany hadn't been able to sleep at all that night. Germany's mind unwillingly wandered back to Italy's hurt face and his confession. Before his body or mind could react he tried to focus on something else.

"_Okay Russia called me this morning around seven which for him would have been around nine and in Japan it would have been three in the afternoon."_

While thinking this, trying to get his mind off Italy and back in the meeting, Germany just waved a hand signaling Russia to continue.

"Well to be honest I've been starting to get a bit worried."

Japan looked at Russia curiously and questioned him further on this matter.

"Worried about what Russia-san?"

"I have been worried about the number of men on our side. We have you and Germany, two very strong countries with equally strong men, plus myself but…"

Russia paused looking at his gloved hands and then at both Germany and Japan.

"…I want more."

Germany's face showed surprise and confusion and Russia answered his unspoken question.

"Why? Well this _is_ war after all and a little more insurance never hurt anyone."

"But Russia if we get more allies this war could get out of hand fairly quickly!" Germany spoke up trying to reason with him.

"And if we're not careful this could turn into World War 3…"

Russia fell silent taking this into consideration. Japan had a point about another world war and Germany too had his. But his mind was decided on this matter and he would not be wavered.

"But there is a reason for my… anxiousness." Russia said with his eyes closed and leaning back in his chair again.

Germany and Japan looked at each other in question wondering if it was something they did or if something happened to Russia.

"And… what would that be…?" Japan asked nervously suddenly feeling uneasy.

Russia just smiled and his hand went under the table.

"I'm glad you asked…"

Russia produced a few cut wires that were attached to a small camera no bigger than the nail of his thumb. Both nations wondered why in the world Russia even had that and their nerves stood more on end.

"I found this the other week."

"What is it? I mean I know it's a camera but-"

"It's a spy camera to be exact. Someone is trying to watch us."

So someone had placed that camera in Russia's house to try and spy on him! But wait did that mean…?

"Why didn't you tell us about this earlier?! How do you know that there aren't bugs in _our_ houses?! What if _we're_ being watched?!" Germany's nerves were getting the better of him which resulted in his outburst. For a second he forgot he was talking to possibly the most violent and frightening man on Earth.

"You assume I didn't think of you and Japan?" Russia asked his face slightly darkening.

"No! No! I'm sorry, I was just-"

"I understand your fear Germany but how do you think I felt when I found them in my house first? Do you think I was calm about it and just brushed it off?"

"Well I didn't-"

"And did you think about how hard it was to remove them without the person who set them in the first place knowing?"

"I just lost my-"

"My patience is thin Germany. I don't want an explanation; I just want a yes or a no."

Russia grinned at Germany, his eyes showing evil and the sick enjoyment he was getting from watching the German squirm.

"No, no I did not."

"Da, of course not. Now if you would Germany, please sit back down. I don't believe I was done speaking yet."

Germany reluctantly sat back in his chair and sighed quietly as he waited for Russia to continue. Japan had sat silently the entire time, getting his first glimpse of the sadistic side of Russia.

"Whoever set these up was smart. They must have been studying and watching me and obviously figured out when I would leave the house. The technology of it is quite admirable as well. Well the mechanics of the camera anyway, the microphone is a little faulty. It shorts out for a few seconds when loud noises or anything above a shout is picked up."

Russia turned the camera over in his hand a few times as if it were a stress ball to soothe his nerves.

"It took me a while to figure out who set them and how to remove them without this person knowing. This is the first one I found, which was hidden behind old coats in my office. There were five or six more that were hidden in other parts of my house as well. Some men of mine found a way to replace the feed of the cameras with a pre-recorded scene and just set it on repeat. That way the person would never know."

Japan spoke up softly, not wanting to interrupt, but was curious about something.

"Why wouldn't you want them to figure out you removed the bugs?"

"Good question. Well for one, I didn't know who put them in place so I wasn't sure which one to attack. If I attacked the innocent, it would be fun da, but I would pay for it."

"_I don't think I've ever heard anyone admit out loud that they think attacking the innocent is fun…"_ Germany thought to himself.

"And also if they found out I wouldn't be able to bug them right back."

Germany and Japan's heads both shot out of their own thoughts and their full attention went back to Russia.

"You put cameras in their house too?" Japan asked showing a bit of excitement.

"Da, I had those men of mine place cameras with better microphones in their houses. I can hear and see everything they're doing."

"But wait, you didn't answer the question of 'are there cameras in _our _houses.'" Germany stated still a bit worried.

"Well I didn't want to scare you so while you're both sitting here those same men are checking your houses for cameras and bugs."

Germany was about to argue with the point of invasion of privacy and Russia could have just told them but he thought about it and Russia was actually smart to do that. If they had been home when he told them, no matter how hard they would have tried to hide it; their behavior would have changed because of being nervous of the cameras.

"You forgot to ask one more question…" Russia said almost in a sing-song voice.

"What question…?" Both nations asked in unison.

"Who set the bugs?" Russia grinned as Germany and Japan both leaned forward looking excited and fearful at the same time.

"Who set them then?" Japan asked wide eyed.

Russia chuckled and stood up. "Why don't I just show you?"

Russia lead the both of them to a door that revealed a room full of monitors and panels with joysticks and buttons, obviously controls for the cameras. German and Japan both frantically searched the monitors for any sign of who it was but turned to the other nation when the Russian spoke.

"They're having an argument…" He said quietly while grinning at a monitor...

"Who's having an argument? Who are they?!" Germany asked bursting with anticipation.

"Our good friends America-kun and Canada-kun…" And with that Russia zoomed in on them and turned on the sound.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Canada glared at his brother with crossed arms and mad eyes. His blue eyes turned ice cold and he hoped that it felt like they were drilling through America's head. America of course, just sat at his desk eating a hamburger, oblivious to his brother's cold stare. Only when Canada "hm-hm"ed he looked up from his lunch and at his brother.

"Whoa what's with the face?"

"You deserve it!" The other blond snapped back at him.

"What flew up your nose?"

Canada narrowed his eyes, causing the blue to seem even icier.

"You really have to _ask_?!"

America took another bite of his burger and nodded. Canada snapped feeling angry that America wouldn't even give him his full attention. Apparently his lunch was just _too_ interesting!

"I'm always doing your dirty work you idiot!!!"

America look surprised at his brother's sudden outburst and loud words. He had never heard him shout that loud before.

"You made me spy on Russia and Iraq! And you made me study when they left their houses so that you could set up cameras which _I_ ended up doing too! And then you decided it would be a great idea to put cameras in their allies' houses too! Oh let's not forget who had to call Iraq to tell her that Italy was running to Germany's house! You know hard that was?! Your camera's microphones are faulty! When she asked for a reason why Italy was headed over there I had to reduce the audio quality because she shouted and it made the mic shut down! It took me a while to do that too! I was afraid she hung up before I answered her! And then of course the job of watching the monitors became _my_ job too!"

"I have important things to do thank you!" America argued defensively thumping a hand to his chest.

"Like what?!" Canada asked stepping closer to America's desk rolling his eyes and spreading his arms.

"Strategizing my next move!"

"You mean strategizing _my_ next move!"

"Well if you don't like it why are you doing it?!"

"Because I'm your brother and unlike someone I know, I actually know how to _act _like it!"

Canada now stood in front of America's desk looking down on him with a face red from anger and his hands clenched into fists.

"I'm surprised you even remembered me when this war started! You never noticed me before! In fact you barely ever noticed _anything_! You still don't notice anything! Even huge mistakes or problems pass you by! In fact… you know what I noticed?" Canada's voice calmed a bit as he went into thought.

"I noticed that the cameras at Russia's…they seem to repeat in a pattern…"

America's head jerked and he said almost in a whisper.

"Canada Shh! I al-"

"It seems like it's just something playing over and o-Mmph!"

Canada was cut short by America shooting up from his chair, putting his hands on Canada's shoulders and pulling him foreword harshly into a forceful kiss. Canada was too shocked to do anything and he could feel his face going completely red. Why in the world was America doing this?!

America pulled away from Canada slightly, looking directly into his eyes, only a few centimeters of space between the two. He said quietly, almost in a murmur, to Canada, their spectacles touching," Not a sound."

"America!! What do you think you're-"

America crashed his mouth onto Canada's again this time sliding his tongue into the other blonde's mouth gently sucking. It almost surprised him when Canada started to slightly kiss back after a few moments.

Again he pulled away, but this time brought his mouth to Canada's ear.

"You underestimate me sometimes." America whispered into Canada's ear. "I look at those monitors too and I noticed the exact same thing you did. I think Russia found out we placed bugs in his house and now he's bugging us back. But I want to play along and mess with his head."

"Why?" Canada whispered back now understanding why America had kissed him so suddenly. America had wanted to keep Canada quiet so that he wouldn't lead on to the fact that they knew that there were possibly cameras watching and hearing them. But still… there was a twinge of pain when America had pulled away.

"Remember the whole cold war incident?'

"Yes."

"I want to mess with that bastard like he messed with me."

America's arms, which were still wrapped around Canada, tightened their hold. Canada could feel America's teeth clenching and his body slightly trembling. He remembered how scared America had been during that time. America had tried to act like it didn't scare him in the least and that he was fine but when America had been alone with Canada, he broke down in sobs and was shaking terribly. Canada remembered this and wrapped his arms around America, stroking his back gently and whispered to him," It's going to be okay. I won't let anything happen to you."

America sighed giving into the comfort Canada was offering and rested his head Canada's shoulder.

"_He smells like maple…it smells nice…"_

Sometimes America wished that he hadn't been so mean to Canada so that they could be like this more often…

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Germany replayed the scene over in his head a few times. The three of them had watched and listened to America and Canada's argument but couldn't hear anything after America decided to make a move on Canada. The three of them had jumped a bit in surprise and after a few moments decided to return to their meeting room. Russia had gone over a list of possible countries to ally with and had assigned both him and Japan countries to recruit.

Germany had again brought up the subject of getting Lithuania to join but Russia just sadly shook his head no and insisted that "Liet-kun" hated him. After a few moments of awkward and depressing silence Russia ordered Germany to "Get me Poland."

And that's where he was headed to now. Russia had ended the meeting shortly after the mention of Lithuania and lead Japan and Germany to the door muttering to himself about bright green eyes and soft brown hair. Germany almost felt sorry for the Russian.

But of course his mind insisted now on focusing on his own problems. No matter what he tried to think about now his mind ended up wandering to the incident with Italy. The look of panic Italy had when he was being dragged away, the way his limbs were flailing trying to fight off the men, but the thing that stuck the most in his mind was Italy's departing words.

"_Germany!!! I love you!!!"_

And there was that tingle again…and then the pain. Germany sighed and let out an angry groan. Why did Italy have to tell him this now?! Why couldn't he have decided to tell him this _before_ the war started?! And what was that crap about "I'm not lying" and "this isn't a trick"? For all he knew it could be! Wasn't love when you would do anything for that person and would stand by them no matter what? Wasn't love when you would be selfless for someone and think of them before yourself?

If Italy really loved him then why didn't he join Russia's side? If Italy really loved him why did he ally with Iraq? Sure his brother was there but to be honest Romano didn't exactly like his twin brother all that much. And if he really cared about family then why didn't he just convince his brother to join Russia's side? If Italy really loved him then…why did this hurt so badly?

Wasn't love supposed to be wonderful and beautiful? Wasn't it supposed to make you happy and feel magical? Wasn't it supposed to be where you couldn't stop thinking about that other person? Wasn't it supposed to be where you couldn't get the other person off your mind for even a second no matter what you did?

Wait…did that mean Germany loved Italy too?

Germany stopped walking suddenly as this thought entered his mind. His whole body froze and he drowned in that question.

"_Do I love Italy too?"_

His heart hammered and his mind swirled and it hurt… it hurt him. So many reasons why he did and didn't love him flooded his mind and he couldn't take it.

His confusion soon turned to great anger and he started to stomp the rest of the distance to Poland's house.

"_Good,"_ he thought angrily and suddenly sadistic _"Something I can take my anger out on."_

The Pole's house suddenly came into view, shining brightly in the afternoon sun. The walk way that lead to the front door was lined with bright and colorful flowers and Germany felt disgusted with their perkiness. He made sure to step on a few with his heavy boots on his way up. When Germany reached the front door, instead of knocking, he kicked it loudly with the toe of his boot.

He could hear the blonde's voice from inside.

"Oh my God! Like hold on a sec'! I'm coming!"

Germany heard Poland's footsteps coming through the foyer and getting closer to the door.

"_Stupid Poland…you don't even have the sense to ask who it is before you answer."_ Germany thought this to himself as he heard the sound of Poland unlocking the door. When the door was opened fully Poland looked a bit surprised and fearful before regaining his composure and looking bright and happy.

"Germany! Oh my God like what are you doing here?" he asked trying to sound cheerful and glad to see the German.

"Oh just thought I'd stop in to see an old _friend_ of mine. We are friends right?"

"Ha-ha! You know it! We're totally friends! The best of best friends! Bff!" The nervousness was starting to show in the green eyes and voice of the smaller nation and Germany grinned in delight.

"And friends do friends favors right?"

"Totally! Like all the time!"

"Well then since we're best friends and all, how would you like to do me a favor?"

"Anything you need Germany! You name it!"

Germany almost forgot how fun it was to intimidate the Pole. He especially loved the way Poland looked like he would jump if Germany said "boo" loud enough.

"You know the war that's going on?"

"Yeah…?"

"Well then you must know whose side I'm on right…?"

Poland's mind brought him the name of the man who had hurt Liet…who had given Liet his scars…who had made Liet so sad…who had torn Liet away from him. Russia…

"Yeah I know." Poland said suddenly annoyed and crossing his arms.

"Well he's my friend too and since friends do favors for friends, I'm doing him a favor."

"I totally don't get what that has to do with me…"

"Join and ally with us you idiot."

"Pfft! Me? Join that total physco?! Please Germany! Dream on!"

"So you're saying no…?"

"Duh I'm saying no you big-Ahh!"

Germany reached forward suddenly grabbing Poland's hair and pulling him by it so that Germany could whisper into his ear.

"Do you remember world war two, Poland?" He said quietly and grinning.

"How could I forget?!"

"Then you certainly remember what I did to you during that time."

Poland's mind flooded with images of his people screaming, crying, begging, and asking him why this was happening. Why was Germany invading? What had they done? Poland had never felt more helpless in his life and he felt so guilty for his people since he was unable to fight off the Germans.

"Do you want that to happen _again_?" Germany asked him tightening his grip on the soft blonde hair that woven through his fingers.

"No!" Poland said his eyes wide and slight tears forming in his eyes.

"Then all you have to do is ally with us."

Poland stayed quiet thinking it over in his mind. His people had suffered so much in world war two. So much death and disease and God, so much crying. Everywhere he went he heard men, women, children, his people, sobbing and crying just hoping it would be over. Suddenly, Germany interrupted his thoughts.

"And you know if you want we could always get our friend Lithuania to-"

"NO! I WON'T LET LIET NEAR THAT GUY!!!" Poland screamed thrashing around not even caring about the pain anymore.

Germany grinned and released Poland's head from his hand with a hard shove. Poland stumbled back a few inches but his green eyes shone with hatred.

"I don't care_ what_ Russia does to me but I won't let him _near_ Liet again!"

Poland was furious and his teeth were clenched as he remembered all the times that Lithuania had secretly called him from Russia's house trying not to cry and tried to pretend he was okay. He remembered when he had seen the scars on Lithuania's back from where Russia had hurt him. He remembered all the times Lithuania woke up screaming from nightmares and even during the day, he would scream when flash backs hit him. Liet had been hurt and scarred enough. He didn't need any more pain.

"Oh so it has a temper?"

"Shut up! I'll ally with you and that _creep_ on one condition!"

"Fine then, what's this condition of yours?"

"If I ally with you, Liet doesn't get touched. Russia isn't allowed to talk to him and no one else on his side either kay'?"

Germany chuckled darkly staring at the other nation. He nodded and answered Poland with "Fine then, we won't touch your precious _Liet-kun_."

He reached out a hand for Poland to shake but Poland just said to him sharply," Damn right you won't!" and shut the door loudly in his face.

Germany turned away from the door laughing and walked back down the path crushing some more flowers along the way.

"You were right Russia… this _is_ fun."

_Authors' Notes:_

_Havoc Cheese: Oh my GOD that was long! It took me five hours to write all that but it was so worth it because I think this chapter is the best so far! Thank you to all who have read it!!!_

_RedMoonDragon: Demo~ Thank you for reading it!! And thank you for whoever reviewed or looked at this chapter's illustrations!_

_Havoc: Yes! We love all our supporters, fans, watchers, reviewers, and readers so so much!!! Here's to you guys! *Lights off fireworks* _

_RMD: Demo~ pretty!! Da, I can't wait to see what's gonna happen in the next chap!! Demo~~ *lights fire crackers*_

_Havoc: Me neither~! Oh wait… we're writing it! But you know the one thing that had me worried about this chapter...?_

_RMD: Mm? Demo what?_

_Havoc: I was so worried the entire time I was writing the last couple pages, that Germany was going to come crashing through my window screaming "WHY-_

_Germany: *Crashes through window* WHY DID YOU MAKE ME SUCH A DICK?!_

_RMD: Demo~ speak of the devil and the devil shall appear-_

_Russia: Da you called?_

_*Havoc and Red now run for their lives as two of their main characters chase after them down the street screaming like little girls.*_

_See you in the next chapter~!_

_Russia:__** KOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOL**_


	5. Annoyance, Anger, And Fury

_~Your eyes are dark, you're mad at me_

_You start to yell and your cheeks turn blue_

_Tell me, what have I done to make you so angry?_

_When all I do is love you. ~_

This was a nightmare, an absolute nightmare.

Italy clenched his eyes shut and reopened them, hoping that what he was in, really was just a bad dream.

No such luck. He was still bound to a chair by heavy rope and still in tears. Iraq loomed over him, pacing back and forth across the small room. She was infuriated with him for going against her orders. She was yelling extremely loud and the sound of her voice reverberated off the walls and into his ears. Since the room was so small and since the walls were made of concrete, her voice seemed even louder and more frightening.

Every time a word left her mouth Italy would flinch and wince, praying that she wouldn't hit him.

"You idiot! You worthless, no brained, good for nothing idiot! How _dare_ you go against my command! How _**dare**_ you! Do you have any idea how furious I am with you right now?! Do you?!"

Italy was too scared to say anything so all he could manage was a feeble shake of the head.

"Oh so you're not talking now? Funny how you can say so little in front of someone who's on _your_ side of the war! You seem to have no problem talking to the enemy!"

Italy wanted to argue that Germany wasn't the enemy and that they were friends, but then he remembered how Germany had shoved him away. He remembered how Germany had just stared at him wide eyed and how he had just stood there staring at him. It hurt him; it hurt him so much.

But the thing that hurt him the worst was that when he was being dragged away in tears and screaming, he had shouted his feelings to Germany. He screamed them out, blurted them, and yelled them to the heavens.

"_Germany I love you!!!"_

But even over his own screams and yells, he didn't hear Germany say a word back. He didn't say he loved Italy back and he didn't say that he didn't love him; he didn't even acknowledge he heard him. That was the part the hurt Italy the most; not knowing how Germany felt.

Though, he was pretty sure that Germany didn't and wouldn't return his love. He had shoved him away so roughly and harshly when Italy kissed him and had just stuttered afterward. It was enough to make him feel the most alone he had ever felt in his life.

"Pay attention when I am talking to you!!!"

And with that a hand came hard across Italy's right cheek, smacking his head to the side.

He let out a yell and another sob and started to tremble, fearing that Iraq would hit him again. Even though she didn't look like it, Iraq could hit…_hard_.

Iraq glared at him, her eyes aglow with rage and anger.

"Did you hear what I just said?"

Italy shook his head no and another hand was smacked across his face, giving his other cheek a matching pink mark.

"Use words you moron!!! Now, did you hear what I just said?!"

"No, I'm sorry! Please don't hit me again!"

"You don't want me to hit you anymore? You don't like the consequences for your foolish and stupid actions? You want me to stop hitting you and yelling at you?"

"Y-yes-"

"Then you should have done what I told you to do to in the first place! You should have _stayed away_ from the enemy! You should have gone home and done whatever it is that you would have done! You should have listened to me and _not_ have gone running to Germany! Do you know how much panic and stress you put me under when you did that?! Huh, do you?!"

"I'm sorry-"

Iraq's hand once again connected harshly with his face, causing his already reddened cheek to turn a deeper shade.

"I don't want to hear your pathetic apologies! What I want to hear is your answers! You got that?!"

Italy nodded but also spoke with his answer," Yes ma'am."

Iraq huffed and stepped back a few inches from Italy. She would have felt bad for what she was doing to Italy if he hadn't done exactly what she told him not to. She probably also wouldn't be as mad and angry if she didn't know that someone had been watching her every move. Sure she had had security search her house and find bugs, which made her worried and frightened even more, and sure she had them removed but never the less she was terrified and angry.

Terrified because she wondered how much information she had let out and how much the cameras had heard and who was behind them. And she was angry because she had had her privacy violated so horribly and she felt like the past few weeks of her life had turned into a movie for someone else to watch.

If she didn't feel this way and if the cameras had never been there she would probably be going a bit easier on Italy. But unfortunately, for the both of them, Iraq was channeling her fear and her fury onto Italy.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions and you are going to answer them honestly. Is that easy enough for you?"

Again Italy nodded and agreed quietly, keeping his gaze downward because he was afraid to look at the angry woman in front of him. It was like a child getting scolded by his mother and the child was too scared and ashamed to look up…but this was ten times worse.

"And look at me when I'm talking to you please! I'd like to know that your full attention is being given to me!"

Great…the woman could read minds.

Italy turned his head upward from looking at his knees and his tear stained eyes were now on Iraq.

Italy had been dragged into Iraq's house that morning and she had ordered who ever was dragging him to bring him down to some dark room, which he guessed was a small basement. Apparently she had been too frantic and angry to remember to put her head pieces back on which allowed her entire face to be exposed.

If not for the situation, Italy would have complimented her by saying she was pretty. But her bare face allowed more anger to show through and Italy now wished she had the head scarves back on to hide it.

"Good at least you can understand _one_ thing I tell you to do! Now first question, what is the exact reason you went to Germany?"

"I had to apologize for not allying with him…" Italy answered in a sad tone.

"I already know that but that seems like a pretty pathetic reason to me. Apologies shouldn't be the first thing on your mind during war. Apologize _after_ you win, that's what I think. But I want to know the exact and detailed reason you went to Germany." Iraq's tone softened a bit as she asked him this, hoping a bit of calmness would get him to cooperate.

"It's kind of private…"

"When you are in a war and when your superior asks you something, nothing is private. Yes things are private from the enemy but with me no secret or thought you have is private. Especially when it concerns the war so I suggest you tell me before I start having to scream at you again."

Italy sighed and his heart ached so bad just thinking back on the past couple of days. Being shoved out of Germany's office, being yelled at by Germany, but the worst was being rejected by Germany. He sighed once more and started to speak.

"Germany is…or maybe was…my best friend. He wanted me to ally with him and was expecting that I would agree since we've allied in the past. I didn't want to tell him I wasn't going to side with him over the phone or in an email so I went to tell him in person.

When I told him that I was allying with you I expected him to understand but he got furious and shoved me out of his office and slammed the door in my face. I was crying and I begged him to let me back in but he didn't say a word so I left.

I knew he was mad at me but I didn't want us to stop being friends so I had to-"

"I'm going to stop you right there Italy. If he got mad at you for allying with someone else and wouldn't even let you explain, then how is he your friend?"

Italy fell silent and let Iraq's words digest in his brain. He really thought about it and realized her words held some truth. Weren't friends supposed to be understanding and kind? Weren't friends supposed to forgive you and accept you exactly how you were? If so then…why did Germany get so furious and displeased with him?

"I-I don't know…" Italy said sighing sadly again, wishing he could just be alone. Iraq heard the sorrow and sadness in Italy's voice and feeling a tiny bit of her compassion come back, decided to move on.

"Alright then… how much information did you leak to Germany?"

Italy shook his head and tried to sound as truthful as he possibly could.

"I didn't tell him anything, I swear. We barely even spoke to each other…"

Iraq was curious about this matter and decided to press him a little further, her paranoia heavy in her brain.

"Then…what did you two talk about?"

Oh God no…_any_ question but that. It hurt him enough to think about what had happened and for Iraq to want him to tell her what he had said and done was just…too much. He couldn't tell her he didn't remember…she would never believe that. He knew that he couldn't tell her it was private, other wise she would just get annoyed. Italy thought for a few more moments and decided that lying would be the best way to go.

Besides she would never find out unless she talked to Germany which he didn't think she would plan on doing anytime soon and he didn't think Germany would exactly tell her…he hoped. He mentally crossed his fingers and hoped the men who had dragged him in didn't speak Italian or English if she asked them to confirm his claim.

"Well I saw him and I called after him but he was ignoring me, so I ran up to him and started to apologize. He wanted to pretend he didn't hear me but I shook him to try and get him to listen to me but he just pushed me away…"

Well…that was _kind of_ true. He really had called out to him and Germany really had pushed him away yes. But Italy wasn't the one to apologize…Germany was the one who yelled out an apology. Italy had lost himself in that one moment and kissed Germany, thinking everything was okay between them, but now he thought he just made Germany even angrier.

"And you promise me that you didn't tell him a _thing_ about strategy or our plans?"

Italy nodded once again and confirmed," I promise, I didn't tell him a thing."

Iraq sighed and her nerves were put at ease…a little.

Even if Italy had told Germany something, what ever she had told China or Italy's twin brother about war plans was probably already exposed. Fear took over her once again and she didn't even notice she was trembling until Italy spoke up.

"Iraq…are you okay? You're shaking…"

Iraq snapped out of her thoughts and back into reality and nodded.

"Yes, yes I'm fine…"

"…You don't sound too good…"

Iraq walked behind Italy and was working on untying him from the chair, trusting that he wouldn't run off the second she did.

"Really I'm okay…"

"But if something is bothering you, you should tell someone. Didn't you say nothing is private in war? And if you told me you may feel better! Besides I wouldn't tell anyone…"

Italy knew how paranoid and scared the woman could be and he wondered if he tried to sympathize with her maybe she could forgive him faster.

"I don't think you'd understand Italy…"

"I could try…"

Italy, now free of the chair, stood up and found that he came eye to eye with Iraq…in fact he was a little taller than she was. Iraq sighed and figured maybe the Italian was right and maybe she would feel better if she didn't keep it bottled up.

"Well yesterday I found out there were cameras in my house and in your house, don't worry they're gone now, and I got scared and angry…I'm just worried how much somebody else knows… I guess… I'm always scared. I've been scared for a while now… and this just makes it worse…"

"It's okay to be afraid sometimes. I get scared a lot too but sometimes instead of facing your fears head on you should run away from them."

"Are you telling me to surrender? Because let me tell you I have no intention of surrendering! Especially this early on in the w-"

"No no no I'm not telling you to surrender." Italy said, interrupting her soon to be ramble. "I'm just telling you to maybe admit you're scared and stop keeping it so bottled up."

Iraq sighed and smiled slightly, shaking her head.

"You're not making any sense to me…"

Italy saw through her smile though. If anyone knew happy, it was Italy. And Iraq was not happy. Her smile showed pain and fear and sadness… it made Italy feel sorry for her…

"Italy really I'm fine. I'll be o-"

But Italy thought otherwise and, hoping she wouldn't kill him for it, wrapped Iraq in a comforting hug.

"Italy what are you doing?"

"Just hugging you; you looked like you needed one."

At first, Iraq wanted to yell at Italy and scold him for touching her without permission but after a few seconds…she let herself relax. And she really hadn't been hugged in a fairly long time…

Giving into the comfort Italy was giving her; she wrapped her arms around him and allowed herself to be held. She wondered to herself how Italy could be so caring towards her when she had just screamed and hit him multiple times…

She also wondered how Italy could want to apologize to Germany even though he had gotten so furious with him and slammed a door in his face. If anyone ever did that to Iraq she would have busted the door down and screamed her lungs out.

But Italy…Italy…

"_Italy has such a warm heart…"_

And suddenly there was rapid knocking on the basement door.

Both Iraq and Italy jumped at the sound and Iraq sadly pulled away from the embrace and said," Come in!"

China bowed his head as he entered and greeted both Iraq and Italy upon doing so. He looked very happy and joyous and bubbly, in fact, China looked like he couldn't stand still!

"Hello China, what brings you here today?" Iraq questioned the man.

China smiled and his obvious excitement showed in his big brown eyes and in his voice as he spoke.

"Aiya I got my brother to ally with us aru!"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"You need me to do _what?!"_

"Replace the bugs and cameras in Iraq's house that's what!"

Out of all the dumb and stupid things America had ever done, this was by far the absolute dumbest. No… this was just plain idiotic. This crossed the line. Canada shook his head and crossed his arms refusing.

"No way! I am _not_ going over there _again_ and sneaking in through a window, worried about the flock of men guarding the house who could catch me any minute, just to replace cameras and bugs that are of poor quality that have already been removed _once_."

America pouted and slumped his shoulders.

"Why noooooooooooooot?" America whined to his brother. This was important! And if Canada did it once he could do it again right?

"Why not?! Hello because it's dangerous! For one they would find out who was setting them if we made a mistake with the cameras or if they found out what type of machinery was in them! And what if I got caught? What would happen to me?! You know how cruel Iraq can be!!" Canada yelled getting annoyed at America's complete sense of ignorance and stupidity. Besides he was getting _pretty _tired of America make him do all his spy work. If he wanted to replace the cameras why couldn't he do it himself?! Did he really care _that little_ about him?!

"You would be fine! If they caught you I would come and get you!"

"They would catch you too!!"

"No they wouldn't! No one can hold me prisoner because I'm a hero and the hero always wins!"

"Would you please stop caring only about yourself for just a minute?!" Canada nearly screamed this at America who was sitting across the table from him.

"What if _I _got hurt before you got there?! What if they decided to keep me somewhere you couldn't find me?! What if they decided to _kill me_?! Did you think about that?! I don't want to die yet! I want to stay around for a long time!" It was getting harder and harder for Canada to talk since he was trying to hold back tears and keep his voice from cracking.

"Do you even want me around…?" He asked quietly, trying to keep his voice under control.

For once, just for once he wanted someone to think about him and put him first. For once he wanted to be the center of attention. For once he wanted to be cared about…

America sighed and scratched the back of his head thinking about what Canada had just said. Of course he wanted him around! He liked to have Canada around! Canada was the only one who didn't argue with him and insult him…well…until now. Sure they had had some fights before but they had always made up and apologized, but this was different. Canada had never been this mad at him before. He had never questioned his importance in America's life and it was really making him worried.

Was he really that awful to him?

Sure he had been making Canada work hard and yeah he had put in him in dangerous situations but Canada could have said no…oh wait he did… well Canada could have asked him to go with him…oh wait… he did…

America now understood where Canada's anger was coming from.

"Of course I want you around…of course I do…"

"Then start acting like it…"

America sighed and looked at Canada, who was keeping his angry gaze on the table. He had never seen him this way. So hurt and angry and…sad…had he really paid him that little of attention?

"Canada…I'm sorry. I know I haven't exactly treated you 'well' these past couple of weeks-"

"Understatement of the year…"

"Okay I've treated you like crap. But really I mean it when I say I'm sorry… I know you told me you didn't want to do these things and that you were scared. I should have listened to you and I really should have done it myself…"

Canada refused to look up at America, but he accepted his apology quietly.

"I forgive you."

"But you know I'm scared too…with Russia and all I had to find a way to hide-"

"So you put me on the front line to take the blow?"

"No Canada it isn't like that!"

America had never told anyone that he was afraid of Russia before and it was painful to admit this to Canada. He was supposed to be the hero and heroes weren't afraid of anything! Especially the evil villains! So then why…did he get such a stomach ache and a cold sweat whenever he thought of Russia?

"I had to find a way to keep me- keep us safe… I didn't want us getting hurt and with the cameras it put my nerves at ease a little bit…"

America chewed his bottom lip and the shame he felt was heaping on him more and more every second.

"I'm scared of him… I really am…"

Canada finally looked up at his brother to see him biting his lip and blinking furiously to hold back tears. America had never told him that was he was afraid of Russia; in fact he had never admitted that he was afraid of anything! He had always acted brave and had always faced situations head on… never before had Canada ever gotten a hint that America was afraid. He suddenly felt bad for snapping at him and walked over to his side of the table.

"Hey, didn't I tell you that I wasn't going to let anything happen to you?"

America laughed sadly and kept his eyes averted from Canada.

"I'm the older one and I'm the hero… I'm supposed to protect you…"

"Well every hero needs a side kick right?" America looked up at Canada who was smiling at him reassuringly. His heart swelled and he suddenly pulled Canada close to his chest in a tight and loving embrace. He couldn't tell Canada… he could never tell Canada how he really felt about him…

He couldn't tell him that when he sent him to Russia's to place the cameras he had originally told Cuba to do it but Cuba refused.

He couldn't tell him that he fought with Cuba for over an hour, telling him that he didn't want Canada to do it.

He couldn't tell him that when Canada left to place the bugs, that he paced his office back and forth for an hour, worried sick.

He couldn't tell him that even the thought of Canada getting hurt was enough to make him sick.

He couldn't tell Canada that he loved him…

More than just his brother…

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Good morning sunshine." England's voice was heavily laced with sarcasm as he drew back the blinds in the living room, letting sun light flood in. France clenched his eyes shut and buried his face under a couch pillow, not wanting to be woken yet.

"What time is it?" He asked, his voice muffled by the pillow.

"Twelve in the afternoon get your ass off the couch."

France moaned and tried to shake his head no but he had a splitting headache which prevented him from doing so.

"Aw does someone have a hangover?" England asked with even more sarcasm in his voice.

"Would you please mind telling me what it is that I did wrong?"

"Oh okay! How about you stumbled in the front door last night _wasted_ out of your bloody mind with your shirt half open, your belt undone, and smelling like women's perfume."

France peaked out from under his pillow and saw England glaring at him with a look of death.

"What did you do last night? Had fun with someone else? Slept around like the dirty bastard you are?"

Shit…he was mad. France was in trouble…_big_ trouble.

"I don't remember…"

"Bull shit, you remember perfectly well. Or did you perhaps get stoned too while you were out?" England stepped closer to the couch the rage in his voice apparent. Never mind being in trouble… France was in the devil's lair now.

"Really mon chere I don't-"

"Don't you _dare_ call me that name! I bet you called who ever you were sleeping with last night that name too!"

"I didn't sleep with anyone last night!" France immediately regretted shouting when a flash of pain shot through his head and made him see stars.

"Well since you 'don't remember' how would you know?"

"Because I only love yo-"

France was cut off by the sharp ringing of the telephone which made his head split even more. Oh God how much did he have to _drink_ last night?!

England turned on his heel sharply and stomped off to the kitchen to answer it. Stupid France… bastard… out drinking until three in the morning… probably cheating on him with some woman… stupid France…stupid…

"Hello?" England said into the receiver trying to mask his anger. France listened from his spot on the couch trying to recall what he had done the previous night.

"_Well let's see…I had a meeting with my boss and he said we should go drinking… I agreed and then… oh God what happened? Uhm… oh I had a few strong drinks that smelled really fruity… I think I spilled one or two…and then… OH GOD I DIDN'T!"_

He did.

He had gotten on top of a table and started to strip dance.

Well now England would know that he hadn't been unfaithful.

"England I didn't-"

"One second- If you're going to be sick go to the bathroom!" England shouted from the kitchen, pausing his telephone call.

"No I need to tell you-"

"Shut up would you?!" England snapped at him getting annoyed. Jeez along with being stupid and unfaithful he had no manners… "No not you please continue…Oh really...Well I don't-….he does?... Are you sure? I mean we haven't exactly been on great terms… well if you can I can…alright then…" And England heard France try to interrupt him again and he was pushed off the edge.

"England who's on the ph-"

"Well sure _America_ I would _love _to ally with you!" England snapped and another can of worms of was opened.

_Authors' Notes:_

_Havoc: *Huff huff* Hello to all... *huff huff* Germany and Russia finally stopped chasing us after we promised to leave them out of the next chapter...speaking of which I can't believe this is already chapter five!_

_Red: demo~ *huff huff* demo~ I can't believe it either, not only that, but the plot thickens. Demo~ thank you all who commented on our story, also the ones who commented on illustrations_

_Havoc: We love each and every one of you so much and every time we see a new review or a new comment it makes our hearts swell to the size of Canada and encourages us to write that much faster!_

_America: And the plot will thicken even more when the HERO saves the day!!! Right? Right???_

_Red: Demo~ maybe America-tan. but we'll never tell_

_France: Mon chere~ are you sure about that~?_

_Havoc: Holy crap how did you get in here?!??!?!?!_

_Red: *gets bat* Damn it Frenchy! Get out already!! _

_Havoc: I think I liked it better when Russia and Germany were trying to kill us… _

_Red: demo~ me too. Where's England when we need him_

_Havoc: I have no- WOAH CRAP!!! RUN!!!!!! *England comes running in with a large bat and anger and Red and Havoc resume their "work out". *_

_See you in the next chapter~!_

_England: __**YOU PAIRED ME WITH THE WINE FREAK?!?!**_


	6. 16 And Counting

_~Tensions are rising, like the tides of a sea_

_My actions are less than perfect_

_My nervousness is getting the better of me_

_Hopefully in the end we won't end up wrecked~_

Well this was interesting, very interesting. Russia looked around his crowded conference room and smiled, realizing he hadn't been in a room with this many people in…ever. Every one was conversing with one another before the meeting started and some were even laughing a little. It almost felt like a family to him. A weird, twisted, and forced family.

This fact made him smile even wider.

"We certainly have grown." Russia stated cheerfully, folding his hands and placing them on the table, his pipe off to the side. The entire room fell silent and looked at the beaming nation with questionable gazes wondering if he was going to say more.

"It's almost like getting new members of a family da?"

A brash response broke through Russia's moment of bliss.

"Hey, I didn't agree to join yet! I'm just checking my options first; I'm certainly no member of your 'family'."

Russia's smile faltered and his eyes fell on the country who had just spoken to him so coldly. He was at the far end of the table, his blue eyes showing stubbornness but a hint of excitement, and all his white blonde hair in a wavy type style.

"What do you mean by that Denmark?"

Denmark rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to cross his arms.

"It means, I don't know if I want to join yet."

"Oh? Then what are you doing here?"

"I'm caught in indecision."

"And what would that indecision be…?"

Russia was starting to lose his patience with the Nordic and his smile died.

"It's complicated…"

Before Russia had a chance to argue with Denmark, the also apparently angry nation to his right spoke.

"Well if this indecision is keeping you from making a final one then I suggest you leave and stop wasting our time since we obviously have better things to do than play stupid head games with you!"

Germany had shot out of his chair and slammed one hand down on the table and pointed at Denmark sharply with his other. Germany was so on edge lately and no one could figure out why. He had seemed so lost and quiet and then suddenly would get very angry and edgy, exploding at the tiniest bit of annoyance he could find.

Little did everyone else know, he was channeling all his confused and mixed emotions into his actions.

"Whoa Germany, like take a chill pill!" Poland piped up from the seat next to Germany.

"Shut up you! You don't need to speak!" Germany yelled almost directly in Poland's face. Poland wiped his hand across his cheek, removing the spit Germany had just sprayed him with.

"Jeez, fine, whatever." Poland crossed his arms and ignored Germany, now childishly annoyed with him.

"Germany if you wouldn't mind, please sit down. I believe I was having a conversation with Denmark."

Germany would have yelled at Russia too…except yelling at Russia was basically a death sentence. So instead he sat back in his chair, quietly fuming.

"Now Denmark would you mind telling us about this 'complicated thing' you're speaking of? Germany does have a point when he says we have things to do."

Denmark nodded and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

"Well you see I have to put the other Nordics into place when I join a side in the war. Sweden and Finland have broken away and they're independent yes, but I'm still expected to look out for Iceland and Norway, even though they're independent too. If I join, I either have to drag them into it or I put them in danger."

Russia nodded, remembering how he had thought the exact same thing when he still had control of the Baltics…such good and happy times…

"You feel like you're responsible if someone hurts them…" Russia said softly, going into his own thoughts.

"_If someone hurts them…what a lie…" _Russia thought to himself. If he had been so worried about the Baltics getting hurt then why…did he beat his dear Lithuania so bad? Why did he give him so many scars and wounds? Why did he find enjoyment in watching him scream and beg for mercy? Maybe he really was insane…  
But that was back then and this was now…he had a new family right? This one right here…his family… almost like a replacement.

"No, I don't. I just know that if they get hurt they'll come looking for me so they can give me some sort of crap about it." Denmark replied

"You haven't changed a bit Denmark." Russia said, starting to come back to reality.

Denmark smiled, flashing his teeth, misinterpreting Russia's comment.

"And you wouldn't want me any other way!"

Again Germany wanted to shout at Denmark but decided against it since Russia was now keeping an eye on him.

"Well how does this offer sound? If you ally with me I can assure you no harm will come to either Iceland or Norway."

"How can you assure that?" Denmark questioned skeptically.

"I have my ways." And the smile crept its way back onto Russia's face.

Denmark bit his bottom lip and rested his head on his laced fingers, going into what was obviously deep thought. The room was completely silent waiting in anticipation for Denmark's answer. Twice he opened his mouth and then closed it, and finally the third time words were formed.

"And you promise me they won't get hurt?"

"I swear."

"Fine then, I'm in!" Denmark grinned fully. He had never lost his thrill and love for fighting. Ever since the Vikings were in place he had always gone to the battle field, loving the feel of his axe in his hands. And this was no exception; in fact it was quite a joy and a thrill to think of being in a war.

Russia nodded at the nation and said joyfully," Welcome."

Russia looked at Poland next who had officially allied with them about a week ago…after about an hour of smart alek words from the Pole. With a little bit of "motivation" he had done what he was told. Apparently the one threat he had gotten from Germany didn't scare him enough. He almost laughed when Poland rubbed his shoulder where a bruise was.

Russia continued surveying the table and his eyes landed on a certain flashy blonde nation, sitting to his far left.

"France, I haven't seen you in a while!"

"Yeah I've been busy." France said, without much enthusiasm.

"Who persuaded you to join?"

"I was going to join anyway but he just gave me more of a reason." France said almost flatly gesturing towards Germany.

After England had agreed to ally with America, they had gotten in a huge argument after England had hung up the phone. Arguing turned into yelling which turned into screaming which turned into France storming out the front door and slamming it. He had never even gotten a chance to tell England he hadn't been unfaithful.

"_He probably still thinks I cheated on him… he should know I would never do that. Doesn't he know I love him?"_

True France flirted with countless people but he never meant anything by it. Whenever he saw other people he thought "oh they're nice…" but whenever he looked at England… he thought "you're perfect". True England had his flaws but it just added to his tsundere cuteness that France thought was adorable. France adored England, no wait; France loved England with all his heart. France would never even dream of cheating on him for someone else, he would be too afraid of losing him.

He had never told England that before, none of it, and now a small part of him was worried that it was too late.

France had said some pretty harsh words to him before he stormed out of the house that day… but they were due to worry that England would get hurt. How in the world could England even consider allying with America? America had hurt him once before and what was stopping him from hurting England again? America couldn't protect England the way France could, but then again England was pretty strong and could stand up for himself…but still…

"Germany, how could you be so stupid?" Wait, what…what?!

"Excuse me?!" Germany snapped back.

"There are a bunch of other nations in the world and you chose France…?"

France couldn't believe what he was hearing! How could Russia speak that way right in front of him?! And what exactly did he mean by that?!

"Well it was either him or Austria! I just happened to run into him first!"

France remembered how after he had fled the house, almost like a mad child, how he had run into Germany. Germany was still smiling from his "conversation" with Poland and had been more; let's just say "joyful" with France. At first France had refused to ally and had smarted off greatly angering the German, which resulted in a fist flying into France's jaw. It still sort of ached where Germany's hard knuckles connected with his face. He had to hand it to Germany; he knew how to throw a right hook.

At first France had joined just out of fear, he too was fearful of the German invasion back in World War 2, but then a second reason wormed its way into his head.

If he was on Russia and Germany's side maybe that would give England a reason to worry. And maybe if he got worried enough he would call or visit France to make sure he was okay and then France could tell him that he was sorry and what had really happened the night he got wasted.

He could see it now…England with big watery eyes, terribly worried…and himself taking England into his arms…and England being seduced by his soft and comforting words…and England saying he loved him more than anything…

…Yeah right, even in fantasies France knew England well enough to know that would never happen.

"But he's so weak…" Russia said completely disregarding the fact that France was even in the room.

"Well we have him now so we might as well keep him. We could use him as bait or something like th-"

"Excuze moi! I am still _here _thank you very much!!!"

Both Russia and Germany looked at France with looks that just screamed, "Yeah, so what?"

"I am most certainly _not_ weak!"

"Which explains why you have so many victories right?" Germany asked lacing every word with sarcasm.

"At least I still have my pride and at least I _deserve _that pride unlike _some _people!" France snapped back while glaring at Germany.

"What did you just say?!"

"I think what I said was you have no right to have any sort of pride since there is nothing to be proud of. In fact I think-"

France was cut off by Germany slamming him against the wall harshly.

"How DARE you say that! I have much more to be proud of than you EVER will you French bastard! If you ever say ANYTHING like that again, you'll be wishing you were DEAD."

"Germany! Calm down!" Russia said sharply, still in his seat at the table.

Germany's rage was flaming through out his entire body and it was so difficult not to smack France around. Normally he would have just let it go and fallen silent, knowing better than to argue…

But his anger was so uncontrollable these days… no matter how hard Germany tried he just couldn't get his mind off of…

No, he wasn't even going to think about him; it would just make him angrier.

Germany breathed hard for a few seconds, glaring wide eyed at the fearful nation in his grasp, but after a few seconds calmed down and let go. He slowly walked back to his seat and kept his head turned downward when he resumed his place.

"Better and France please remove yourself from the floor."

When Germany had walked away France had slumped down the wall and was now sitting on the floor not realizing it. France regained his composure and nodded muttering something and took his seat.

Everyone had been too involved on watching Germany and France to even notice that Russia had been smiling in enjoyment the entire time.

But then…Russia's smiled faded as he noticed something…

"Japan… you didn't do your job…"

Japan, who had been sitting silently the entire time and waiting politely for his turn to speak, turned his attention to Russia.

"Yes I did."

"Then why are there only three other countries here?"

Japan sighed and shook his head slightly. He had hoped Russia wouldn't notice the absence but that was almost foolish of him to think.

"I promise I did get another country."

"Then where are they…?" Russia asked thinking Japan was lying to him. If there was one thing that Russia hated it was liars….

Just like him…Liet…oh such a liar…

"_Liars…lying children…bad children…we don't children who can't behave…do we? You are lying... such a bad child… Liet is a bad child… a bad child for lying to me…Liet must be punished…punishment for lying…liar, liar, liar…"_

Russia didn't even notice that his hand was trailing towards his pipe that lay next to his chair.

"I don't know… I am sorry. They promised they would be here on time."

Russia tilted his head slightly and looked from the door back to Japan.

"Well then who did you-"

Suddenly, as if on cue, the door slammed open.

"Sorry I'm late, I got lost!!!"

Japan sighed in relief as the other Asian nation entered the door way.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

This was annoying… no this wasn't just annoying it was completely aggravating. What had started off as a gathering of four countries now seemed to be a reunion of two. America and England had spent the past hour talking, arguing, and sometimes even laughing, paying no mind to Canada and Cuba who were only a few feet away.

At first Canada had thought it would be a good idea to get England onto America's side. Maybe the reassurance of America's "father" would give him some sort of comfort and put his worries to rest for a while. Canada had come up with that idea and was actually the one to suggest it to America, but now he was starting to regret it.

America had completely ignored him for the past hour and England was doing the same. Canada had actually been looking forward to seeing England and had greeted him cheerfully upon his entrance. England hadn't even managed to get two words out to Canada before America had talked over him.

"Iggy, long time no smell… of your rancid food!"

Of course this had turned into argument which had turned into a conversation and which turned into… well this.

Canada sighed and drooped his head a little bit which caught the attention of Cuba.

"You're bored too huh?"

Cuba asked not even bothering to whisper, actually he hoped that America would realize how inconsiderate he was being. That bastard, if it weren't for Canada he wouldn't even be here right now. But Canada had asked him to help and how could he have said no?

Canada nodded and whispered to Cuba," It's like we're not even here."

"You don't have to whisper you know. You have as much of a right to talk as those two."

Canada was about to argue with the fact that it wasn't polite to talk over people but then realized Cuba was right when America and England didn't even notice they were talking.

"I guess you're right…" Canada said more loudly this time

Cuba frowned at the sad tone in Canada's voice and suddenly stood up.

"Cuba what are you-"Canada started to ask but was interrupted when Cuba pulled him up into a standing position by his arm.

"Canada and I will be right back!" Cuba said as loud as he could without shouting.

Canada expected either America or England to argue or least ask where they were going. They most certainly wouldn't let two of their allies leave during a meeting right…?

"Okay fine go ahead. Just make sure to close the door on your way out. Anyway, England you should really make hamburgers! I could teach you so that they wouldn't turn out nasty!"

Canada grew even more annoyed. Hadn't he and America just a talk about ignoring him? Hadn't they just had a talk about America caring about Canada? What was wrong with him?! Was he really that thick?! Why…why…

"America!" He said loudly growing angry.

"What, what is it?" His attention going to Canada worried about the tone his voice had.

Canada had planned to argue with him and tell him how inconsiderate he was being but he just…he couldn't…oh God why was he about to cry…why did America have that look on his face…? Why…

Canada ran from the room and down the hall as fast as he could. He ran until he reached the outside and leaned against a tree in America's front yard breathing heavily. The way America had looked at him just then showed worry and concern but he didn't mean any of that…did he? If he cared then why did he always ignore him…he knew he lied to him the other day…he was always lying…

Canada's throat tightened and he coughed, trying to clear it.

"I am such a mess…" He said quietly to himself.

"Don't say that."

Canada looked up in surprise at Cuba who had apparently followed him and was now only a few feet away from him.

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

The way Canada was acting was scaring Cuba...Canada looked like he was about to cry…

"It's a long story…"

"Since those two don't seem like they plan on stopping anytime soon, I think we have a while."

Canada sighed and stayed quiet for a minute and Cuba reassured him it was okay.

"You can trust me, I'll listen."

"Well America is my brother you know, but he ignores me a lot. He always ignores me unless I yell at him and come right out and tell him what's wrong. It's like he has absolutely no consideration for anyone's feelings but his own and doesn't even bother to ask how I'm doing. He's supposed to be my brother, my _brother_, but he acts like he doesn't even care…"

Cuba stepped closer to the blonde nation and patted him on the shoulder softly.

"Well you don't have to tell me he's an idiot since I already know that. But it's pretty crappy of him to act like your not even there. You don't need that…"

Cuba stepped even closer and hugged Canada tightly. Canada hugged him back accepting the comfort and sighed into his shoulder.

"You deserve as much attention as him."

"Thank you Cuba…that's nice of you to say…"

Canada smiled at Cuba warmly. Cuba really was such a great friend to Canada. He had always boosted Canada up when he needed it. Always encouraged him to ignore the irritating people and try to put it past him. Always hugged him when he needed it, he really was so nice to Canada.

"Canada…"

"Yes Cub-"

Canada didn't get to finish his sentence since Cuba was leaving a soft kiss on his lips.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

America wanted to chase after Canada when he ran out of the room, he wanted to run after him and ask him what was wrong. Canada looked like he was going to burst into tears and America wanted to know what the problem was. Well…he already had a pretty good idea…

He felt bad for purposely ignoring Canada and Cuba for so long but it was part of a plan. He just had to wait until Canada left from boredom along with Cuba. It had worked but he didn't expect Canada to get so upset…

When Cuba ran after Canada, he sighed and said softly," I thought they would never leave."

England arched an eyebrow at the now serious America.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"I had to wait for them to leave to talk to you about something." America said his tone changed dramatically from a few moments previous.

"Then why did you invite them over if you wanted to speak with me privately?"

"I didn't but Cuba was getting tired of being left out of meetings so he came over and then Canada came along too."

"So…."

"So I ignored the both of them hoping they'd get bored and leave which they did so my plan worked."

"Well that's new, a plan of yours that actually worked?"

America rolled his eyes and got up from his chair, trying to ignore the triumphant smirk on England's face.

"Yes, yes, blah blah blah, but I really do need to ask you something…"

"Well spit it out then."

"I need you to do some things… since you're on my side now and since I'm in charge I think you should agree."

"I'll agree to what I want to thank you! What exactly is it you need me to do?"

"Well I've had Canada doing a lot of things…dangerous things…and I really didn't want him to but I had no other choice. I couldn't do it myself since I've been over worked recently, but now I just really need someone to do the work he's been assigned…"

"And that would be…?"

America spoke in a hushed tone, knowing that Russia's cameras could hear every word he said.

"Spy work mostly, checking cameras, replacing bugs, a little bit of tapping, that sort of thing."

England fell silent for a few moments and thought it over. He didn't mean to brag but he was pretty great at spying, but if he got caught it would be bad… especially since it was Russia and Iraq they were dealing with. Not the most merciful countries in the world…

"I'll do it but first I want to know something."

"Yeah sure what is it?"

"Why replace Canada? It's obvious he hasn't gotten caught so why replace him?"

"I don't want him getting hurt. He didn't want to do it in the first place and I worried like mad…and you have more experience with this. You're older and more used to dangerous things than he is so…you know."

America walked to his window to try and conceal the blush on his face from England.

"Since when did you start caring so much about him? You usually just pretend he's not there…"

"You don't act too different."

"Hey I only raised him for a little while! If he should be mad at anyone it should be France!"

As these words escaped his mouth England's mind immediately went to thoughts of France. He remembered when Canada had still been very small and France had taken him in, how good of a father figure he was. France would always make Canada's favorite foods and read him stories and play with him… it was an aspect he really loved about France.

No he didn't love him! He hated him with all his guts! Unfaithful, no good, cheating, lying…

"_France…"_

England looked off to the side trying to evade his anger and annoyance with France and tried to focus on the situation.

"You still didn't answer my question…"

America leaned against the wall next to the large window in his office and crossed his arms.

"You wouldn't understand…"

"Try me."

America tried to push his embarrassment and nervousness out of his body and say those three words. Those three easy words that held so much emotion it was unbelievable.

I love Canada.

He had kept that in for so long, he had never told anyone. Every day those three words would float around in his head, begging to be let out. He finally was going to…

"I lo-"

But America was unable to finish his sentence because he had turned his head towards the window and saw something he didn't want to.

Cuba was kissing Canada.

Canada was kissing Cuba.

And his heart broke into a million pieces.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Iraq and Italy had followed China to his house to meet with the new country they had gotten an aliment with. Though both could already tell who it was… it was obvious that South Korea would ally with China. He was always chasing after him, groping China's chest, asking if China liked him. It came as no surprise to either Iraq or Italy….they already knew who it was without China even having to tell them.

"I think you'll like him aru! He's really cool and smart and I think he could help us a lot aru!"

Though it came as a bit of a surprise to hear China boasting about South Korea since he usually just complained about him… and South Korea wasn't exactly the kind of guy you would describe as "smart".

But South Korea was very strong so what else could they ask for?

China told them to wait in the front sitting room while he got his brother and then he excitedly hurried off into another room to get him. Italy sat down and looked around at the Chinese artwork on the wall in awe. They were so different than paintings he had seen before! They were so pretty though~!

Iraq on the other hand sat with another headache coming on. South Korea was strong but she knew that he wasn't very easy to deal with. He was stubborn and obnoxious and…maybe even more of a hassle than Italy!

"China really should have talked to me before getting his brother to join! I'm in charge of what happens not him; I get to choose who joins and who doesn't! I don't care if he's his brother or not, this isn't for him to decide! He could have asked me first and I would have been happy to talk to him about it! But no he just had to go and do something without my-"

"I got him aru!" Iraq immediately stopped talking and wondered how much China had heard. Obviously not much since he was still beaming when he reentered the room starting to introduce his brother.

"I would like you all to meet my brother, North Korea, Im Hyung Soo!"

Both Italy and Iraq's mouths dropped in shock as South Korea's twin; North Korea strode into the room.

"What?" They both asked at the same time.

Confusion was heavy in both the nation's minds and North Korea stood there and greeted them.

"Hello, it's nice to meet you."

Silence…absolute silence…

Iraq was the first to break it.

"I thought you were going to ally with _South _Korea!"

"I never said I would do that aru!"

"No I just mean it seems obvious that if you were going to ally with someone it would be him…"

China was about to speak and explain the situation to Iraq, but North Korea beat him to it.

"I offered my help to him, he didn't ask me."

"Exactly aru! He came over and asked if we needed any help so I figured it would be an advantage aru."

Iraq understood now…South Korea wasn't allying with them but his twin brother was. Wait a minute…South Korea _wasn't_ allying with them…

"Well if you don't want his help then-"

"China this is the best idea you've ever had!!!" Iraq said suddenly very joyous. North Korea was a lot more manageable than his brother and not to mention he seemed so much more intelligent and not to mention useful! This was blessing, an absolute blessing! For Iraq things seemed like they were finally going to go her way!

"Welcome North Korea, we very much appreciate any kind of help you can give us!"

"I will try my best."

Was this guy an angel or something???

"Ve~ welcome! I'm Italy, the northern half! Hey we're similar! You're a north and I'm a north!"

"I suppose so…"

China smiled to himself; he knew they would like him! But at the mention of South Korea he did wonder why he didn't come running to him as soon as the war started… he was almost positive that he would but…

"Ve is your brother going to join us too? My brother is with us so it'd be neat if we had two sets of twins instead of-"

"No. He's not."

North Korea answered coldly and averted the looks of the other three nations.

How did he know that his twin would be mentioned? Well it was kind of apparent that some kind of suspicion would arise but never the less he preferred not to talk about his brother…it was too…painful.

"Why not aru?"

"He joined Russia's side. Japan went to his house and got him to join without any trouble at all."

Russia had already taken away South Korea from him once…was his brother really that dense to be foolish enough to be taken again?! What was he thinking?! _Was_ he even thinking?!

"Well that's…odd." Iraq said, thinking out loud. Of course she was confused as to why South Korea would pick Russia's side over the side that China was on but to her it was one less headache! It was almost good news…

It would have been great news…if North Korea didn't sound so annoyed and slightly bothered about it.

China patted North Korea's shoulder, wanting to break the awkward silence.

"Well we have North Korea aru! And he's just as good if not better aru!"

North Korea heaved a heavy breath as quietly as he could and thanked China.

"How many people are in this war now?" Italy asked out of the blue trying to count on his fingers. The other three nations dove into their own thoughts, listing off the countries that were involved.

North Korea was the first to answer.

"Sixteen as of now."

There was a bit of shock as realization hit the four of them.

"No way there is sixteen aru…"

"It's true. There's Iraq, you, both Italies, myself, America, Canada, Cuba, England, Russia, Germany, Japan, France, Poland, Denmark, and South Korea."

"When did Denmark join in?" Iraq asked puzzled.

"From what I heard just today."

Oh yes, North Korea was definitely useful. One hundred things he could do came flying into Iraq's mind but then another thought broke through all of those.

Iraq laughed a little under her breath and smiled, even though it was hidden through her facial scarves.

"What's so funny Iraq?" Italy asked tilting his head.

Iraq laughed softly one more time before answering Italy's question.

"Men…welcome to World War Three."

_~Authors' Notes_

_Spain: Hola! Red couldn't be here with us today since she was caught by Germany and Russia so sadly the chapter illustration will be a little late...but as soon as she escapes, it will arrive!_

_Canada: Havoc on the other hand has no good excuse not to be here except for the fact that she's lazy and it took her TWENTY THREE days to update! What a horrible person..._

_Spain: She's not that horrible! She's just...yeah she's lazy. Red on the other hand...has been overworked. But if she was here she would like you all to know that the illustration will come out soon and thank you all for reading and she hopes she can get out of the grasp of Germany and Russia to see the happy faces of fans once again._

_Canada: And if Ms. Lazy Ass was here she would like you all to know that she loves every single word of love and fan mail she gets and that she appreciates every single one of you! Also she would like everyone to know that she has absolutely nothing against France or Germany and every bad word she wrote about them had nothing to do with personal feelings._

_Spain & Canada: BANZAI!_

_~See you in the next chapter!_

_Kumajiro: Who?_


	7. Fire Before The Storm

_~I'm going to burst, I am a mess_

_Held together by anger and fear_

_Why am I this way? I cannot confess_

_And for your own sake, don't draw too near~_

It was late at night in Italy. The moon was in the sky, the stars were shining, and the air was cool and silent. Night time in Italy was always so peaceful and relaxing, even during this war. So peaceful even the tensest person could fall asleep quite easily.

Actually, Italy himself was drifting in and out of sleep, his mind was growing very hazy and his muscles relaxed. Unintelligent thoughts drifted through his now usually worried and stressed mind as the comfort of sleep drew closer and closer.

Romano too was almost about to fall into the dark and peaceful depths of a much needed sleep, when suddenly the sharp ring of the telephone sounded. Romano's eyes shot open and his heart started to pound from the sudden and loud noise. He wriggled out from under his brother's arm, which had been thrown across his chest, and quickly answered the phone.

Italy felt Romano scamper out of bed and heard him hit his toe on the night stand, followed by cursing. The phone rang a fifth and sixth time and Romano picked it up half way through the seventh. Italy half wondered who was calling at such a late hour but the other half was too lazy to ask Romano who was on the phone. So Italy just flipped over onto his side and curled up, once again trying to fall asleep.

"Hello?!" Romano said groggily and annoyed into the receiver. "Yeah I was just about to-"Romano was obviously cut off by the other person talking over them.

"I can't understand a damn word you're saying! Slow down!"

Even though Italy could hear his brother talking on the phone, the words he was saying barely even made sense to him. It was like Romano was speaking some foreign language that Italy didn't understand a word of.

"…What was your idea?"

Italy sighed contently and pulled the comfy blanket up under his chin, curling up further on his right side. Suddenly an image of a bunny with flowers floated through his head and a slight smile spread on his face.

"Well I would love to do that but-"

"_Ve~ come back Mr. Bunny! Let's play together!"_ At this point Italy was half dreaming and falling even further into sleep. The bunny was running away from him and his body twitched as he tried to chase after it in his sleep.

"I could possibly do that but what about my idiot brother…?"

Italy's body jerked just a bit at the mention of his brother's "term on endearment" for him. For a second he thought Romano was calling him and he was going to respond but his exhausted mouth and voice refused to cooperate with him.

"Yes I mean Italy, who else?!" Romano saying his name reverberated in Italy's head and it seemed to echo. Slowly though… it started to change its tone…

Italy! - It sounded like his brother.

Italy! - It sounded like his brother's voice dropped.

Italy!!- It didn't sound much like his brother anymore…

_Italy!!!-_ This voice was a lot deeper…

_ITALY!! PLEASE! WAKE UP!_

Italy immediately recognized this voice. It was Germany's. The strong and firm tone of his voice, plus the accent the nation had, made it easily recognizable to the Italian. Germany's voice sounded so real and so there, as if he was standing over the side of his bed.

Italy tried to respond to the German and form the words_ "I'm sorry."_ But when he tried to speak, it just came out as slurred gibberish.

Romano looked at his brother who was facing away from him and murmuring in his sleep, but passed it off as Italy having a night mare. Romano drew his focus back to his phone call; it had been Iraq who was calling, only to hear more of her ramblings. But for once…they were making some sense…

"_ITALY PLEASE! WAKE UP!! DON'T GO, PLEASE STAY!!"_

Germany was yelling now and Italy wondered why. He wasn't going anywhere, was he? He wasn't walking away or running, in fact he wasn't even moving.

Italy tried to open his eyes and see if Germany really was standing there but he felt himself growing so weak from the exhaustion that it proved impossible.

He could practically see Germany's face in his mind. It was worried and scared and…was he crying? No of course not…Germany was too proud to cry.

"_Germany I'm sorry…"_

"_Italy don't be sorry just please stay awake!"_

"_Please forgive me…"_

"_Italy please! Just stay awake! Don't close your eyes! Please, I beg you, stay awake!"_

"But Germany, I am so tired…"

Italy was actually able to say this out loud but that was all he could manage since he immediately fell fast asleep afterwards.

In fact, he fell asleep so fast his didn't see his brother finish his phone conversation with a smirk and a devious glow in his eye. He didn't hear Romano say goodbye to Iraq and hang up the phone. He didn't feel Romano climb back into bed, lying on his back with his hands under his head. He didn't see a giant grin swipe across Romano's face. And of course he didn't hear Romano say out loud," The potato bastard will never see it coming."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Come on Korea, pick up the slack!" South Korea snapped back to reality and looked at the nation that had just called him. Denmark stood at Russia's doorway, a huge box in his arms, with an annoyed look on his face.

"If you're going to just stand there all day, spare us and just go home!"

"But the clouds are so pretty today!" Korea said grinning idiotically.

"They're just clouds! Now start helping out!" Denmark turned away from Korea and disappeared inside the house.

"He sounded just like…" Korea's voice trailed off as his mind went to the person he was the closest in the world to… or _used_ to be the closest to.

He saw his twin brother in his mind, along with himself, when they were both only eight years old. They had to help do some sort of thing, Korea couldn't remember what, and he of course, had been slacking off. North Korea had yelled at him almost the same as Denmark just had and forced him to do his share as well. Of course South Korea hadn't minded it since it was his twin brother scolding him…in fact in an odd way, it let South Korea know that his twin cared.

He sighed sadly as his mind brought him all sorts of memories from their childhood.

How North Korea had to help learn to read, how South Korea had to help North Korea get the "monster" out of the closet. How on the hot nights in Korea they had gotten a huge blanket and slept on it outside. How on occasional cold nights they bundled up and slept huddled together. How they had tried to make China something sweet for his birthday but ended up making the kitchen a huge mess. How when they had gotten lost in the woods one time he had started to cry and North Korea held his hand and told him it was going to be okay.

That's the memory that brought South Korea the most pain. How he had always used to hold his brother's hand. When he was upset, when he was happy, when he was lonely, and when he just felt like it. North Korea never seemed to mind; in secret maybe he even liked holding South Korea's hand.

But they hadn't held hands, let alone _spoken_ to each other in years. It had gotten so lonely…

Korea looked down at his open palm and realized how empty it felt. No one had given him the least bit of affection in years and it made his heart ache horribly. North Korea, for the longest time, was the only one who genuinely cared about him.

"Brother…what happened?"

"I assume you're talking about China?"

Korea yelped at the sudden voice behind him and turned around quickly. Japan stood there, obviously startled by Korea's reaction.

"Oh Japan…you scared me."

"I am sorry, I didn't mean to."

"Don't worry its fine!" Korea said, trying to sound happy and joyful as usual. He bent down and picked up the box of rations that were to be shipped out to the Russian troops and followed Japan inside the house.

"You didn't answer my question." Japan said a few steps in front of Korea.

"I didn't? What did you ask me?"

"If you were talking about China."

Korea quickly nodded trying to cover up the truth.

"Yes, yes I was!"

Japan, and pretty much everyone else in the world, knew how obsessed with China Korea was. Always asking China if he liked him and chasing after him. It made Japan almost feel a little sorry for China…almost.

And why didn't China make more of an effort to push Korea away?! It wouldn't be that hard would it? China could bribe Korea somehow or be more firm as to telling him to leave him a-

Wait, why was Japan thinking all this? He was supposed to NOT care about China but here he was feeling-

Oh no…he wasn't… _jealous_ was he?! No, there was no way that was possible…

"Do you…miss him or….?"

"Yeah, I miss him." Korea said more of thinking of North Korea than China at the moment.

Suddenly Denmark chimed up from the other room and asked," Then why in the world did you join Russia's side?"

Both Japan and Denmark looked at Korea questionably, their minds drawing total blanks on possible motives.

"You both have to promise not to tell Russia." Korea said setting the box down on the floor.

"Yeah sure why not?" Denmark said shrugging while Japan nodded.

"No you have to _swear_," Korea said, childishly sticking out his pinkies. Japan, who knew Korea, stuck out his own finger and wound it around Korea's while Denmark just arced an eyebrow,

"Can't I just swear in blood?" Denmark asked sarcastically.

"No because this way if you break your promise I have permission to slice off your finger." Korea said completely unfazed. The Nordic sighed and lazily wound his pinky around Korea's.

"Okay then the reason I joined Russia's side was to protect China."

Both nations stared confused and blankly at the Asian. Denmark was the first to speak up.

"Well _that_ clears this up!" Again, sarcasm was heavy in his voice.

"No really it's the truth! If I'm on Russia's side and he's planning an attack on China then I could be here to hear about it and convince him otherwise!"

More blank stares from both countries.

"Obviously you don't know Russia very well." Denmark said, speaking up again. "When his mind is set on something there's no changing it. If Russia was going to attack China, China would get attacked. And if you were on China's side then you could protect him a lot better. Plus if somehow China magically escaped the attack because _someone_ let him know about, then that _someone_ would be punished for espionage. Basically there's nothing you can do."

Nothing he could do!? At least he was trying! He had thought about what to do for days and after much planning and weighing of his options, made the best choice he could. He knew that there was a possibility that Russia wouldn't listen but at least he would know of the attack. What would happen if he was on Iraq's side with China? China could get bombed or hurt and they would never see it coming. If China got hurt and Korea hadn't made an effort to protect him it would have broken his heart…or maybe…he was trying to protect North Korea somehow…

Korea stuck out his bottom lip and huffed, now angry and annoyed at Denmark.

"At least I care and try to _protect_ the people I'm close to! At least I don't force them to stay with me!"

Denmark turned around sharply from the box he was unloading and glared at Korea.

"What is_ that_ supposed to mean?"

"What do _you _think it means control freak?"

Anger flared in the pit of Denmark's stomach and he took a step closer to Korea.

"_What_ did you just say?"

"I think I called you an over bearing, caging, totally psychotic, control freak."

"What do you know, you idiotic moron?!"

"I know that all the other Nordics were so sick and tired of you always wanting them to stay and denying them of independence that they just hauled off and left you. I know that you beat up Finland and Norway a few times to prevent that from happening. I know that Sweden ha-"

"**SHUT UP YOU FUCKING DUMBASS! YOU DON"T KNOW ANTHING!"**

Denmark was enraged and furious and hurt by Korea's words. They were all true yet but that didn't mean that they didn't hurt or make him upset. He knew how over bearing he was with the Nordics but he was just afraid of being alone. He knew better than to beat Finland and Norway but he felt like he had no other choice. He tried so hard with all of them. Denmark had tried to give them everything they wanted, tried to feed them their favorite foods, tried to keep the house a nice place to live, tried to make them happy…tried to do anything he could to make them _want_ to live there.

And Sweden…it hurt just even thinking about him…it felt like his heart was being smashed into three thousand pieces…

After all, Sweden was the one who had hurt him the worst.

"I know enough to know they all hate your guts!"

"Well at least my brothers aren't completely annoyed with me and at least my _twin_ doesn't hate my guts!"

That did it. Korea leapt at Denmark and tackled him to the floor; one hand wrapped tightly around his neck, another about to sock him right in the face. Denmark however, slammed his fist right into Korea's neck, knocking him off. Korea quickly got up and managed to drive his knee harshly into Denmark's stomach. Folded over from the blow, Denmark yelped but managed to wind his hand through Korea's hair and slammed his face into the wall.

White flashed from behind Korea's eyes as he face met the cold and hard wall. He tasted the coppery liquid of blood and he retaliated by elbowing Denmark blindly from behind and then delivering a sucker punch to his jaw.

"Don't you dare say a word about my brother!" Korea said almost growling. Denmark smirked knowing fully well he struck a major nerve.

"So I can't say that he probably wishes you weren't around any more?"

"Just like Sweden wishes you were never born?"

A window breaking would have been a fitting noise for the sound of Denmark's heart. Did Sweden really feel that way… he obviously didn't like him since had been the first one to leave but…wishing he was never born?

Suddenly a gun shot broke through the tension and sadness and anger.

Both nations yelled in surprise and their attention jerked to Japan who had fired a gun to try and calm them down.

"Both of you please compose your selves!"

Denmark and Korea's breath was both ragged and uneven and both were still fairly angry with one another, but Japan with a gun was just a _little_ too daring not to listen to.

Denmark huffed and stormed out of the room, not even caring if they were done bringing in supplies or not, and started to head back for his house.

Little did the three of them know that a certain blonde over heard everything that had been said…

"And I didn't make any promises not to tell anyone anything." He thought as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Okay so like Russia is running low on ammo so like the best place to attack would totally be-"

"Poland, please slow down a bit I can't write that fast!" Poland huffed as he heard America on the other line scrawling down every word he just said, minus the "like" and "totally" of course.

"Okay now what would be the best place to attack?"

"It would totally have to be the small towns first since he figures everyone would go straight for the capital."

"Stupid ex-commie bastard…" America muttered, his pen moving frantically.

"Also I found out some important things today." Poland said flipping his hair back, feeling quite proud of himself.

"Oh really? What kind of things?"

"Well the reason why Korea is on Russia's side and a major weak point Denmark has."

"Poland…you just made my day."

"Yeah well you totally owe me for it later so don't get too happy~!" Poland said giggling. He proceeded to tell America how sensitive Denmark was about the Nordics leaving him and how Korea was so paranoid about China getting hurt.

"So I like totally say you go for China first and then that would totes make Iraq weaker since she's mooching off China weapon wise."

"That's the exact idea I got. If you can maybe dig a little deeper and snoop around and try to find Russia and Germany's weak points. They're the major leaders of that side so-"

"I'm so ahead of you it's not even funny!"  
"What do you mean Poland?"

"Why do you think I suggested you take in Lithuania? Because for one I like totally don't want him getting hurt and two because then like Russia would so go easier on you."

"Yes I do remember Russia being quite uhm… obsessed with Lithuania."

"Oh my God I KNOW. Obsessed barely even covers it at all! But like Lithuania is smart enough to know-"

Suddenly there was the loud sound of a door closing and Poland's heart started to pound.

"I'll like talk you later." He quickly snapped his phone shut and pretended to work just as Russia walked into the room.

"Poland, good to see you're doing as you were told."

"I'm not a little five year old you know."

"Da but sometimes... certain children need to be punished a little more harshly than others~."

Poland tried to his best to keep his body relaxed but the Russian saw right through it.

"As long as you don't misbehave then I have no reason to harm you, just be good."

Poland bit down hard on his bottom lip knowing what he was doing could get him killed. Russia wouldn't just hurt him for espionage; he would _murder _him…literally.

"You have like nothing to worry about. Only a like total idiot would do something so stupid."

"_And I think I'm that idiot."_ Poland added mentally.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

America held the phone to his ear and said "hello?" into the phone a few times before the dial tone confirmed that no one was there. He sighed and hung up the phone. America had new information and he had a few plans coming into his mind. England was also doing well with his job and making it a lot easier to spy but…none of that seemed to matter to him right now.

All he could think about was Canada…

Well…more like _Cuba_ kissing Canada.

He just couldn't get it out of his head. How Cuba and Canada were kissing so deeply and lovingly for he didn't know how long. It killed him when he saw Canada wrap his arms around Cuba's neck and tilt his head, deepening the kiss. It made him want to just lie down and cry.

Whenever he saw Canada now, he would forget how to breathe and a massive sadness would sweep over him. Canada of course had no idea what was wrong.

America's mind was filled with so many questions.

Did Canada love Cuba? How long had he loved Cuba? Why did he love Cuba? Would Cuba treat him well? Would Canada be happy with Cuba? Had he and Cuba been together for a really long time? Had America just never known?

He was too scared and nervous and upset to ask Canada, who didn't even know America had seen him kissing Cuba, all these questions.

And then of course…questions involving him floated through his head.

Had Canada ever wanted to kiss him that way? Had Canada ever liked him? Had Canada ever _loved_ him? What had Canada felt when America had kissed him to keep him quiet? Did Canada want to keep kissing him? Was Canada mad at him for kissing him? Why couldn't Canada love him and not Cuba?

America sighed heavily and shook his head. He was stupid for thinking so. Of course Canada didn't and wouldn't love him. After treating him so horribly? As if that would ever happen. America was actually surprised that Canada still even talked to him…

"Ah Mr. America, do you have a head ache?"

America peered over the top rims of his glasses at the brown haired nation standing in front of him.

"Oh… yeah but I'm fine Lithuania thank you."

Lithuania looked America, who was sitting with his head in his hands at his desk, and started to get worried. America had been so quiet and withdrawn the past couple of days. He hadn't been saying much and had barely even eaten. You could practically hear his stomach growl from across the room.

Lithuania knew this face, these actions, all of this, far too well.

America had all the typical symptoms of unrequited love.

He had the facial expressions, the mannerisms…everything. Lithuania had seen this expression many times…on Russia's face…

He sighed and asked America quietly," Would you like something to eat and some coffee?"

America nodded, finally giving his stomach some attention," I would love that, thanks."

Lithuania nodded as he exited the room trying to get the sad image of America out of his head.

He remembered back to the time when Russia had control of him. How Russia had called him into his office one day and Lithuania had thought he was in the biggest trouble of his life. Lithuania had stepped in quietly and shut the door to see Russia sitting at his desk, much like how America had been. Lithuania had started to tremble immediately and when Russia got up he had instinctively covered his face. Russia had gently pulled his arms away and looked directly into Lithuania's green eyes with his own violet orbs and said ever so softly to him," I love you."

Even to this day, Lithuania could still hear Russia's voice saying those three words over and over in his head.

He could also still see the look of absolute hurt on Russia's face when he hadn't responded. The tears that streamed down Russia's cheeks when Lithuania had shook his head no. And how Russia had dropped to his knees and clung to Lithuania's waist asking, pleading, _begging_ Lithuania to love him.

Lithuania tried his hardest to push all the painful thoughts out of his head as he went to go get America his food. It was America he needed to worry about…not himself…not Russia…

But not worrying about Russia was impossible since he had been worrying every single day since he met him.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Canada bit his bottom lip as he closed the distance between himself and America's door. He knew something was wrong with his brother and he had been a little wary of asking him. America seemed like he didn't want to talk about it but Canada decided there was no time like the present to break through a person's wall of stubbornness.

He took a deep breath and knocked softly on America's door with his first knuckle.

"Come in…" America said quietly and even more sadly. Canada opened the door a crack and asked softly," Are you busy?"

Even through the small space Canada could see America's head shoot up and look at him wide eyed.

"Oh uh no I'm fine…come in…" America sounded tense and nervous…maybe this had something to do with Russia…?

Canada apprehensively stepped into America's office and the door clicked when he shut it behind him. Canada took a few steps across the room and pulled his chair next to America's.

Silence hung in the air for a fairly long time until Canada sighed and spoke with a voice laced with genuine concern

"America…I'm worried."

"What are you worried about? Did you get hurt? Do you need me to-"

"No America I'm worried about you."

America was taken aback and his blue eyes widened at Canada.

"Why are you worried?"

"Well you've just been so quiet… and you seem so up tight…I'm just concerned…you're not usually like this."

America bit his bottom lip, his fear of Canada confronting him coming true. He decided a lie would be better to tell him for now…he would tell Canada how he really felt after the war. He just hoped Canada didn't fall too in love with Cuba to prevent that from happening…

"I've just been really stressed out…" America turned his gaze downward to his desk and tried to ignore the urge he had to pull Canada as close as he possibly could and never let go.

Canada followed his gaze and noticed the notes he had taken from his phone call with Poland on the desk. His eyes flicked over the messy scrawl but he was able to make out that Denmark had officially joined Russia's side.

"Is this what's worrying you?" Canada asked, reaching in front of his brother and pointing at the words on the page. America's breathing grew a little quicker as Canada unknowingly invaded his personal bubble and nodded quickly.

"Yeah…yeah I'm just worried about uh…Denmark invading…or something…"

America knew his response didn't sound very enthusiastic but he wasn't exactly Mr. Energy at the moment.

"If you want I can try and do something… try and talk to him…"

"No Canada you don't need to do that it's okay…" America barely even noticed the sigh that escaped his lips. Why was this so painful? Why was putting off what he had been dying to tell Canada for years this heart wrenching?

"America I'm worried! Really you're scaring me! I know you're stressed out but you really should talk to me about it… I know I'm not the best help in the world but-"

"You're all the help I need…" America interrupted softly. Canada, who heard this very clearly, tilted his head and asked," What do you mean?"

"Canada…there's something I need to tell you…"

"Sure America…anything."

America took the deepest breath he possibly could and looked Canada straight in the eyes.

"Canada I l-"

Suddenly door clicked and reopened and America resisted the urge to grab the pistol in his desk drawer and shoot whoever it was.

Sweden stood at his office door with the same expression he always had on his face.

"What is it?!" America snapped a little more annoyed than needed.

Sweden blinked twice and said in a monotone voice," H'rd Denmark join'd t'day."

"Yeah so?!"

"W's wond'rin' 'f 't w's tru'."

"Yes it's true now if you wouldn't mind leaving!"

Canada spoke up from his silence.

"Ah Sweden please…excuse my brother…"

Sweden just glared at America and nodded.

"C'n I ask…w'y he did…?"

"Uhm I don't know and I'm not sure if-"

"I'm guessing the ex-communist bastard forced him into it. He's such a coward I'm not surprised." America spit out, still thoroughly annoyed.

Sweden, even though he didn't show it, grew a little annoyed and possibly even worried about the Nordic. Denmark was certainly no coward and Russia forcing him was highly unlikely. Denmark and Russia were on pretty good terms so he had probably been drawn in without much resistance. Sweden sighed, the foolish and small desire that Denmark would join the side he was on completely gone.

"Besides why do you care? You hate him so-"

"W'en did I say th't?" Sweden argued without thinking.

"I just assumed since you got up and left so quickly." America replied leaning back in his chair.

Sweden knew that he had hurt Denmark incredibly bad when he, and the rest of the Nordics, had left but he really didn't want to be reminded of it. He made his decision based on what was best for his country…not based on his feelings.

In fact everyone, including Denmark, probably had the wrong idea of what his motives were for leaving.

"Sweden I'm sorry but you could leave just for a moment? America was trying to tell me something…"

America, during the entire time Sweden was in his office, was boiling. Fuming, angry, ashamed, depressed, confused. Canada acted like he cared but he knew that Canada didn't really mean it. Canada probably didn't mean any of it. Canada was probably lying to him. If Russia came along Canada would probably just run off with Cuba and leave America to fight for himself…

" _It's going to be okay. I won't let anything happen to you."_

"_Hey, didn't I tell you that I wasn't going to let anything happen to you?"_

"_Well every hero needs a side kick right?"_

Canada's words from the previous weeks raced through his head and each time it echoed in his mind it made him angrier and sadder and sicker… Canada was lying all those times… lying through his teeth…

"Get out, both of you."

Both Canada and Sweden looked at America in surprise. His eyes were dark and his face downward. In fact…he actually looked similar to Russia at the moment.

"America what's the ma-"

"**Get out!!!**" America snapped back his voice echoing through room.

Canada, frightened by his brother's actions, scampered out of his chair and hurried out the door with Sweden right behind him.

Did Denmark really have America that stressed out? Or maybe it was the fact that Denmark was on Russia's side? Whatever was bothering America, it was making him worry about him like crazy.

Maybe if there was some way to ensure Denmark wouldn't attack America…? But America was the head of this side… but what if someone else posed a threat…?

Suddenly an idea wormed its way into Canada's head…

A crazy idea…but it was probably just crazy enough to work.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"I hope you happy now!" Germany said loudly and angrily to Russia.

"Oh would you care to clarify dear Germany?!" Russia said back equally annoyed.

"Gladly! America now has Lithuania and so guess what? We just _lost_ all three Baltic nations!" Germany stated his blood feeling like it was about to boil.

"Just like how we lost both sides of Italy because of you?!" Russia said cocking his head and his face turning dark.

Germany glared at Russia and spat out," That was not my fault! He was going to join Iraq anyway!!"

"And you couldn't have 'convinced' him otherwise?"

"Unlike you I don't always use _violence_ to get what I want!"

"My, my how you have forgotten World War 2." Russia knew how much Germany regretted the entire Nazi incident and resisted the urge to laugh when the other blonde flinched.

"That was a very long time ago! And what about you?! I guess beating the ones I actually care about is the way to get them to stick around."

Russia's eyes flared at the obvious implication of the Baltic countries. How he wished he could just smack that triumphant smirk of Germany's face…

"And you still care about Italy?"

Germany, caught of guard, huffed and crossed his arms, his stubbornness taking over his true feelings.

"No!"

"Liar, if you didn't care you wouldn't be so on edge~ maybe we should attack him first and get it over with da? And maybe I should make you do it since you obviously _don't care._"

Germany's anger flared and it took everything in his power not to charge forward and land his fist on Russia's face. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was _hurt_ Italy. Sure he was stubborn and determined but even he had his limits…

"That would be pointless. Italy is weak enough as is, what would we gain by attacking?"

"Nothing really, it would just be a little bit of fun da~?"

"Unlike you Russia I'm not a huge sadist."

"World War Two Germany, World War Two…"

Japan, France and Poland, who were also in the room watched as Russia and Germany kept throwing insults back and forth, both too intrigued and scared to interrupt.

"Like how long are they going to like go at this?" Poland asked lazily.

"This is their fourth argument of the day…maybe another ten minutes…" France replied nonchalantly.

"Did you not get Lithuania to join because you knew he _hated_ you for beating him? Or even better, he hates you for _loving_ him." Germany said smirking… suddenly he got a weird feeling in his stomach…

"Oh just like how Italy loves you and you shoved him away for years?"

Germany was silent and staring at the floor wide eyed.

"Oh did I strike a nerve?" Russia asked smiling. Again no reply from Germany…

"Like hello? Anyone home?" Poland chirped; Germany's stomach felt very odd…

"Germany, say something, don't just stand there and take that." France said; it felt like someone was twisting his stomach into knots…

"Germany…are you alright?" Japan asked quietly; it suddenly started to burn…

Germany opened his mouth and everyone waited for his response.

Instead Germany dropped to his knees and violently vomited a stream of thick, red blood.

_Author's Notes~_

_Prussia: Oh wow look at this! The two people who aren't nearly as awesome as me posted chapter seven...finally. The writer should apologize for that but you know what?! -Holds up mug of beer- CHEERS TO CHAPTER SEVEN!!!_

_Germany: -Holds up mug of beer- Ja! Also to the fans that commented, favorited and watched this story grow, we can't do it with out you. Cheers for all of you._

_P: EVEN THOUGH the awesome that is me is NOT IN THIS I still should say that Havoc and Red cry and squeal every time they get fan mail hint hint nudge nudge~ -Hangs on to Luddie's neck-_

_G: No you were mentioned bruder. Also RedMoonDragon wants to give her full apologies to the lateness of the Chapter 6 illustration; I assure you that once we caught her we worked her so she could be on time for this chapter._

_P: Yup...and we would have worked Havoc too but she's now lying dead in a ditch because she got killed for making Russia too much of a dickwad so ya' know…_

_G: Yes yes, we made sure she stayed alive…a little… so she could write another chapter. _

_P: Hah hah she's our writing slave and Red is our art monkey! Ha ha ha....-Passes out-_

_G: Oh bruder, we'll see you all next time -Drags Prussia away-_

_P: NEXT TIME!!! HAHAHHAHA...Zzzzzzzz -Snores-_

_Also the character of North Korea is not mine or Red's. North Korea (Im Hyung Soo) was designed and created by Lo-Wah at Deviant Art. All credit for his character go to her and we were granted permission by the artist to use him in our story,_

_Thank you Lo-Wah!_

_~See you all in the next chapter!_


	8. Drag Us To Hell

_~Darkness has clouded all sight_

_You and I are separated by pain_

_But for you, in blindness I shall fight_

_And desperately hope I do not go insane~_

"**Somebody make it stop!! It burns so bad!!!**" Germany writhed in pain and thrashed around on top of the bed. His entire abdomen was scalding on the inside and his whole body was throbbing in absolute unbearable pain. He tried everything he could to make the agony and the burning stop but nothing he did was working.  
He jerked into different positions. He screamed. He cursed. He punched the wall next to him. He kicked. He even prayed. Nothing would lessen the horrible pains.

"Someone get more water!" Japan yelled from Germany's beside, worried and scared to death. He laid a hand on Germany's forehead but quickly withdrew when the skin of his palm started to burn.

"Like, what is going on?!" Poland asked, bringing in another bowl of water.

Russia stepped into the room, shaking his head and answered in a serious tone," His capital is burning."

"Why?"

"This is war idiot! Someone is attacking!" Denmark yelled chiming in.

"Yes and if one of you don't do something soon then-"

"**I will not die!! Not yet and not like this!!" **

Germany let out another pain racked scream as a flower of pain bloomed brightly in his stomach. He curled up in the fetal position but then quickly snapped straight like a board, but then arched his back and kicked his legs furiously.

Germany was no wimp when it came to pain. He had been dealing with physical and emotional pain his entire life, what with the wars and all the blood shed. He was not one to complain about a headache or cry about a sprained ankle or even yell from a broken bone. Germany knew pain and he knew how to handle it well.

But this was completely different from anything else.

This agony was relentless and merciless. Not even for a second would it let up or decrease in intensity. He had never hurt this bad and for once, Germany felt something he hadn't felt in a very long time.

He was scared. He was scared of the pain. He was scared of what was causing it. He was scared it was never going to end. He was scared that his capital was going to burn to the ground. He was scared they were going to lose. He was scared he was going to die.

"Please someone just do something!" He yelled towards the ceiling while clinging tightly to the cuff of Japan's jacket with his hand.

Russia nodded to Denmark and spoke," I want your air force over Berlin in less than twenty minutes, and I want whoever is causing this taken down immediately. They don't just pose a threat to him; they pose a threat to the rest of us."

Denmark nodded and sprung up from his chair, dialing furiously on his cell phone and then giving stern orders in Danish.

"Japan I want your air force out there as well. Get South Korea to help you and try to put out the fires and keep the capital in one piece." Russia continued.  
"Please save my people! They're burning too!" Germany cried out loudly and wide eyed.

"France, do as Germany said and evacuate the city." Russia ordered as the man just entered the room. France was about to argue but his eyes landed on the German who was sweating profusely and still squirming and rolling around in pain.

He instead nodded and ran off to go follow orders. Poland had inconspicuously slipped into another room and was frantically entering everything that was going on in Germany onto his phone.

"_Berlin is bein bombd attack now hes weak and every 1 else is goin 2 help so they wont expect a thing go for russia NOW ur not goin 2 get this chance again HURRY!"_

Poland snapped his phone shut and reentered the room just as Japan was leaving.

"Stay calm, it will end soon." Japan said soothingly to Germany before he left.  
Russia strode next to the German and laid an ice chilled hand over the blonde's hot forehead.

"Ah but Japan it is only beginning."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Canada knew better than to do this. He knew the risks he was going to take and he knew the consequences of the situation, but he had to do it. He positioned the hat atop his head and shifted the goggles onto his forehead. He took a deep breath and was about to leave when all of a sudden he heard a buzzing.

Canada stopped in his tracks and strained an ear to listen for it. It sounded like it was repeating in a pattern…

Buzzbuzzbuzz…buzzbuzzbuzz…buzzbuzzbuzz…

Canada stepped softly and followed the noise to the armchair in his office. He waited until the buzzing started again and felt around in the cushions from where it seemed to be coming from.

His hand trailed along the crevice of the leather material and suddenly it met an obscure and bulky object. He wrapped his slender fingers around it and pulled it from the chair, feeling the vibrations now in his hand.

"A cell phone…?" Canada asked himself. He turned it over in his hand and immediately identified it as America's from the sticker-photo on the back.

It was a picture of the two of them when they were around 15 or 16 years old. They had been running around at an amusement park all day and decided to take pictures. Canada smiled softly to himself as he remembered how America had talked him into riding all the scary roller coasters and how he had to hold America's hair back when he got sick afterward. How Canada had gotten cotton candy all over his face. How they had both gotten soaked on a water ride. How Canada had clung to America when they had gotten stuck at the top of the Ferris wheel. And of course how they had squeezed into a photo booth and taken pictures with each other.

In the first frame, they were both sticking out their tongues and crossing their eyes, the next America was making bunny ears behind Canada's head and Canada was pretending to hit him, the next they were hugging each other around their necks, and the last made Canada blush.

America had surprised Canada and not let go of his neck and kissed him on the cheek for the last picture. In the picture Canada was blushing just as hard as he was now.

His heart ached as Canada realized how much the stress and pain and anger had changed their relationship. It was enough to make him want to cry…

Suddenly the persistent vibrations pulsed through the phone again and Canada saw that America had a new message from Poland. He figured it was probably urgent so he opened the message and decided to apologize later.

When his gaze met the text his heart raced and he re-read the message two, three, and four more times.

Berlin was under attack.

Everyone's attention was on Germany.

Russia's defenses were down.

It was just too perfect…

Canada raced out from his office door but was stopped almost instantly as he ran into someone.

"Ah I'm sorry! I'm just in a-"

"Canada, are you okay?"

Canada looked up and his eyes were met with those of Cuba. Cuba was looking at him worried and concerned and Canada tried his best to remain calm. He couldn't let anyone find out about what he was going to do.

"Yeah I'm fine I'm just in a hurry!"

"Where are you going? You look really uptight…"

"Really I'm fine!"  
Cuba brushed his hand over the shoulder of Canada's uniform and furrowed his eyebrows.

"Why are you in your air force uniform…?"

"_Oh crap… well try to tell the truth at least a little…half truth…yeah that'll work…"_ Canada thought in his head trying not to panic.

"Well Berlin is under attack and I want to fly around the area and see how much damage is being done. If it's a lot, I can give America the okay on further attacks since they'll already be weakened."

"What?! Canada no! That's way too dangerous!" Cuba argued placing his hands protectively on Canada's shoulders. "You can't do that! Get England to do it, he's closer to Germany."

Forget the half truth; Canada would have to out right lie.

"America told me to do it though. He's freaking out right now and I don't want to upset him further by arguing."

"I don't care how upset he is, your safety and _life_ for that matter comes first!"

"I already agreed I'd do it and don't worry! I'll be fine since I'm flying around the country and not through it."

"But Canada-"

"Really Cuba I'll be fine."

Cuba sighed heavily and pulled the smaller nation into his arms, encircling him tightly. Canada's face deepened to pink and he returned the hug, patting his back reassuringly.

"Do you promise…?" Cuba asked quietly.

Canada nodded and replied," I promise."

"Canada…there's something you need to know."  
"What is it Cuba?"

"I'm in love with you."

Canada's eyes widened and his body tensed up. His heart started to pound and he felt great warmth. His stomach fluttered, his world spun, his head was dizzy, and his cheeks were hot.

He felt utterly fantastic.

"I'm in love with you too." He said quietly.

The world felt like it stopped for a moment and he couldn't breathe. Had those words really come from his mouth? Was he just imagining it or had it really happened?

And if it had…why did he feel guilty?

He could feel Cuba smiling widely and felt a strong hand run through his hair, confirming he really had said it.

"You'd better come back alive then."  
"Of course I will…"

Cuba leaned forward and kissed Canada on the mouth, slowly and lovingly, tightening his hold on the nation.

"Please be safe."  
Canada smiled and started to run when he was released from the Cuban's warm and comforting arms.  
"I will! I won't do anything stupid!"

That was probably the biggest lie Canada had ever told.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Denmark sighed as he headed down the runway, picking up speed with every foot, and radioed his other men for take off. The bubble of nervousness he always had when he disconnected from the ground rose in his stomach and he took a deep breath in. He tried to push it away but it was refusing to subdue.

"Nothing is going to go wrong, you're perfectly safe, and you're safer in a plane than you are in a car." Denmark said to himself, trying to calm down.

It wasn't the actual flying that bothered him, it was how far away from the ground he was and how alone he was. If something went wrong he knew he didn't have anyone to calm him down and he knew he had to deal with it entirely on his own.

And a part of him knew that if he went down he was going to die alone.

Denmark sighed a shaky breath, knowing he was going to cause himself to panic. He relaxed his muscles and focused solely on trying to steer. It was proving difficult since he was having an extremely hard time staying on task.

"_If ya' pan'c ya' r'lly 'r goin' t' crash."_ Denmark sighed and listened to the voice in his head. Strangely enough, the voice in his head was Sweden's. It had been Sweden's voice for years. At first he thought he was crazy but then he figured that Sweden's rational and firm thoughts were better than his own racing and careless.  
"I know…" he said out loud breathing deeply.

"_Nothin' 's goin' t' happ'n if ya' stay calm."_

"If you haven't noticed I'm really high off the ground."

"_Ya' said y'rself th't y'r saf'r in a plane th'n ya' r' in a car."_

"That's what they all say…"

"_Mayb' b'caus' it's true."_

Denmark took a large breath in and filled his lungs with air. He steadied his heart rate and let himself relax. The inner Sweden voice was right. If he kept this up he really would crash and he had his people behind him. He needed to be brave and calm, not stressed and scared.

"I'm fine now…"

"'_m st'll goin' t' talk t' ya. 'M goin' t' stay with ya'."_

"Well that's a lie…you left a really long time ago…"

Denmark glanced down for just a second at his stiff uniform. He always hated wearing the thing… it was so formal and proper…

Though he couldn't argue with the color, red was a good choice for infantry and-

Wait a minute…infantry red was a ground color but he was in a plane…and his uniform was gray…

Denmark looked back at his uniform and saw red blooming and spreading around his leg right at the thigh. Shakily he touched his fingers to it and they came up red too.

And then the pain hit.

"AHH!! SHIT!!" He cursed as his leg throbbed and clenched his teeth, trying once again not to panic and to stay calm.

But that was near impossible since shortly there after a gash appeared on his shoulder and he started to bleed from there as well. He yelled in more pain and tried to figure out what was going on.

Suddenly his radio came on and he picked up.

"Mr. Denmark are you okay?!" It was one of his men in the other planes.

"No! I'm bleeding all over the place! What's going on?!"

The voice of another one of his men buzzed in yelling," We're under attack! _You're_ under attack!"

"What?! By who and wh-AHH!!" The gash in his shoulder deepened and he gripped it with one hand tightly.

"We don't know! But the third team was just refused of take off because of it!"

Denmark thought quickly but nothing was coming to his mind. The throbbing and the profuse bleeding in his leg and his shoulder were increasing quickly and he had to focus on not crashing his plane.

"_Radio J'pan, give 'im half y'r men an' take th' oth'r half b'ck to D'nmark."_

Denmark did as the voice said and radioed Japan as fast as he could.  
"Japan! Japan! I'm under attack! I need to go back and fight!"

"You're under attack? What should I-"  
"Take half my men who are in the air and I'll take the other half back."  
"Understood."

Denmark switched frequencies trying to ignore the new wound forming under his left knee and signaled the back end of his men to return to Denmark.

He too turned around and resumed his place at the front, his flying becoming a bit erratic from the panic and the pain that now insisted on making themselves known. His breathing was growing heavier as his land came back into view and he saw it dotted with a foreign army. They were invading ruthlessly, taking down anything in their way. Even from up high in the air Denmark knew what was happening.  
"The day I get successfully invaded is the day I surrender my left-"

But his voice fell silent and his eyes widened as the voice inside his head showed its embodiment in the plane now flying next to him.

Sweden's blue eyes stared back into his own.

And it was most certainly not a kind glare.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"You know that was a really cowardly thing of you to do." Cuba stated flatly, glaring at America. America just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, having no idea what the man was even talking about. And frankly he didn't care since he was still fairly mad at the Cuban.

"Okay whatever."

Anger flared in the Cuban's stomach and he stood up.

"Whatever?! That's all you have to say for yourself?!" Cuba yelled near America's face.

America jerked back a bit from instinct and knitted his eyebrows together, confused beyond belief.

"What is _your_ problem?!" America yelled back, his own anger flaring.

"My problem is that you have your brother out there doing something that you could have done by yourself!"

"What?"

"Don't give me what! You and I both know how much you love to fly and how much experience you have with it! It just really amazes me that you would send Canada out to assess Berlin instead of doing it yourself!"

America sat in complete stillness and silence, confused out of his mind.

"What in the world are you talking about…?"

"Oh don't give me that crap. You know perfectly well what I'm talking about."  
"No Cuba I don't…wait…where is Canada?"

"Oh like you don't know coward."

"Cuba what is going on?!"

"Oh come off it America-"  
America raced forward and shook Cuba harshly by his shoulders and asked frantic and loudly, wide eyed and scared" Where is my Matty?!"

Cuba blinked a few times and answered quietly," Uhm does going to see how much damage has been done to Berlin ring any bells?"

"Why is he in Berlin? And what in the world do you mean by damage?"

"Berlin being attacked, you were upset, told him to go look at the damage, Russia's defenses were down-"

"Berlin is being attacked?! Since whe- wait I was never upset and I never told him to go and- wait RUSSIA?!? Russia as in Russia's side?! My Matty is _there?!_"

So many emotions hit the American all at once. Fear, confusion, worry, anxiousness, terror, anger, and the extreme urge to tackle Cuba to the ground since he got a feeling it was all his fault.

America pushed Cuba away and looked around for his phone. Unable to find it on his desktop he picked up his office phone and dialed frantically.

It rang once…twice….three times….four times…five….six…seven…

"Hello you've reached Matthew Williams, sorry I can't get to the phone right now but if you leave me your number then I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Bye!"

"SHIT!" America slammed the phone down and turned back to Cuba, the anger and the fear taking over his calm and rational thoughts.

"What exactly did he say to you?!"

"He told me that he was going to go and fly around Berlin and see how much damage was done and see if we could weaken them further."

"And he told you that I told him to do that?!"

"Yeah…"

Before America could answer, the door to his office swung open and Sweden ran in, for the first time looking something other than mad.

"D'nmark is bein' attacked."  
"We have a matter that's a little more important-"

"He's bein' attacked by Canada."  
Both America and Cuba shouted at the exact same time," WHAT?!"

"He's invadin' as we spe'k."

America immediately started giving orders and reasoning out loud.

"Sweden, go to Denmark and get Canada out of there _now_!" Sweden nodded and left to go to his own country to assist the Canadian.

"Cuba I want _you_ to go and see what the hell is going on in Berlin."

"And what are you going to do?"  
"I'm going to fight Russia. If his defenses really are down than I shouldn't have too many problems."

America had wanted to fight Russia for many years. Ever since the Cold war it was apparent that he and the Russian hated each other. America had never had a reason before to hurt the nation and he didn't exactly want to start a full blow war, but now he had his perfect excuse. If Russia had laid even a finger on his Matty somehow…he was going to pay…and he was going to pay hard…

Lithuania, who had been close to silent the entire time, spoke in a strong voice.

"I want to go with you."  
America looked back at the brunette and nodded. "Thank you Lithuania."

America grabbed his jacket and gun and was about to leave but Cuba interrupted him.

"By the way, he's not _your _Matty, America. Sorry to break it to you but his heart is mine."

America glared at the Cuban, eyes full of anger and annoyance, and said back just as stern and driven," We'll let him decide that."

Cuba smirked. "He already did."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Even from inside the fighter plane, Japan was sweltering from the heat of the fires. The warmth alone was enough to make him drenched in sweat but his heavy uniform was not helping matters at all. All he could think of was putting out the raging flames.  
The entire city was glowing bright orange and just the sight of it made him feel the immense amount of pain the German was in.

Although the smoke was thick and black, Japan could see his men putting out what they could. Visibility was a major problem since not only was the smoke obscuring his sight but now the steam was as well.

Still him, his men, South Korea's men, and Denmark's men pushed forward.

It was very hectic in the sky though. He constantly heard planes flying right past him followed by several shots from another plane. He couldn't figure out what country the enemies were from however. He was going to fast and his brain was too scattered to remember to look for an insignia.

"Japan have you identified the opposing force yet?" Russia's voice asked from his radio.

"Negative, there's too much smoke. It's too dark to tell."

"I see…what is the situation like?"

"We're doing the best we can…"

Even over the static of the radio Japan could hear Germany scream bloody murder as another bomb was dropped only a few hundred yards from him.

"I don't think your best is good enough."

"Well since Denmark isn't here anymore we're having- AHHH!!!"

Four times his plane had gotten hit by bullets, twice he had seen the bright flashes of bombs going off, and only once had he screamed. And that was this time.

A plane, an enemy plane, flew right in front of him, only a few feet in front of him for that matter. But…it flew just close enough to…

He quickly turned his plane so that he was almost fully sideways and tried his best to regain his position.  
"Japan?"

Japan stayed silent for a moment and after his heart rate returned a somewhat calm pace, picked up his radio.

"You won't believe who we're fighting off…"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Germany jerked his head to the side, staring wide eyed at the radio in Russia's hands.  
"Who?! What bastard is doing this?!" Germany asked through yells and moans. Through Germany's clouded mind he had thought up possibilities for who was the cause of this... All day he tried to think of that instead of letting the pain devour him.

At first his ideas were rational. He thought it was America trying to weaken Russia through him. Or possibly Iraq trying to do the very same. He considered Sweden as the culprit because of anger towards Denmark and Russia. He nearly ruled out Lithuania but thought about the trauma Russia had put him through. All his rational thoughts included him getting the pain that Russia deserved.

He hated Russia.

He hated Russia back then.  
He hated Russia now.

And he made a decision that he would always hate Russia.  
He figured there wasn't a thing Russia could do to make Germany hate him more.

And then, his thoughts became irrational. He thought maybe Russia and Poland were pulling a prank on him. He thought that Germania decided it was a bad idea to let him grow up and figured he should just kill him.

At one point he even thought his non-existent mother was punishing him.

He also was bombarded with a reoccurring dream.

He was standing on the ash covered ground and flames were surrounding him. The fire was swallowing him and suddenly the ground started to crack beneath his feet. Germany felt as if he should run or as if he should try to escape. He started to flee but suddenly a hand grabbed his ankle and pulled him harshly to the ground. Germany's blue eyes widened as he saw the figure of Prussia pit clawing his way from the ground. His red eyes gleamed evilly at him and the grin on his face was riddled with sharp teeth.

"Come with me bruder! Come down here with me!"

"No! I don't want to! It burns!"

"You don't miss me bruder?! Oh that hurts! Come spend time with your big bruder down in hell!"

"NO! I don't want to burn in hell!!"

"Pay for your sins Ludwig! Pay for all the lives you claimed in the Second World War! Come see all the Poles and all the Frenchmen you tortured and killed! They're waiting for you bruder!! We ALL are!!"

Suddenly thousand of hands shot out of the ground and started pulling Germany down. Down towards the flames and he screamed. He begged them to release him and he begged them to make the burning stop and he was apologizing oh God it was hurting so bad!!!

And Germany never stopped having this dream. For hours on end he would see Prussia trying to drag him down to hell. Of course he rationalized that it could never happen and in a way it put his nerves at somewhat of an ease to finally find out who was causing him so much pain.

"Who are we fighting Japan? America? China? Kore-"  
"Italy."

Silence…absolute dead silence…even Germany's screams were silenced… the shock was just…incredible.

Germany was the first to speak.  
"Give me the phone."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Iraq why do we have to stay here all day?" Italy asked, bored to tears. Iraq and North Korea had showed up at his house early that morning and Romano had left shortly after they arrived.

"Because I said so that's why! Do you give the orders around here? No, I do thank you very much! So what I say goes! No questions, no arguments, and not a word of complaint. So next time you want to-"

"Can we eat?"

Iraq huffed and crossed her arms, annoyed from being interrupted.

"Fine, go ahead and eat!"

"Ve I know a great pasta restaurant a few minutes away! Let-"

"No eating." North Korea said from Italy's dining room table.  
"Why not???" Italy whined. His stomach gurgled loudly and he jutted out his bottom lip in a pout.  
"Because I'm preparing dinner when your brother comes back."

"Really? That's really nice of you Korea! Grazie!"

North Korea looked at Iraq with eyes full of guilt and her own eyes reflected his.

"I'll be right back." Italy said going off into another room. Iraq absent mindedly nodded and laced her fingers together, resting her chin on them.

"You're going to have to tell him." North Korea said in a hushed tone.

"What exactly am I supposed to tell him? Oh hey Italy I forgot to tell you that your brother is bombing Berlin right now and we're keeping you here so that you don't find out. Oh yeah that will work perfectly."  
"He's going to find out somehow."  
"Well for now keep him ignorant. He doesn't need to know. If he did he would flood his brother with calls and find some way to talk him out of it."

"But he's been dropping bombs for hours."  
"And he's winning but if Italy stopped him now there's a chance he could mess everything up. We finally have the upper hand and I don't plan on losing it any time soon."

North Korea nodded and sighed, pulling gently at his braid that was draped over his shoulder.  
He thought of his own brother and what he would do if they were in the same situation. Well, he knew he would probably to try and talk him out of it for South Korea's sake. Bombs were dangerous and his twin wasn't exactly the most careful of people. He also knew that if South Korea ever found out he was doing the same thing he would most likely react in the same way.

He would…wouldn't he?

Or were they so distant from each other that South Korea didn't care what he did anymore?  
He heaved a sad sigh and suddenly his hand felt cold and empty…

He longed for South Korea's fingers to be intertwined with his for the eighth time that day.

"This just in, the situation in Berlin is worsening for the Russian side as the city continues to burn."  
Both Iraq and North Korea's heads shot up as the sound of the TV floated in from the other room.

"What have now been identified as Italian planes have been bombing the capital since very early this morning. The city is in the process of being evacuated by French troops and the fires are trying to be contained but an estimated 3,000 have already lost their lives."

Iraq dashed up from the table and into the living room where Italy stood wide eyed with tears streaming down his cheeks, staring at the screen.  
"Wh-what…Italian planes…b-but I didn't…"

Italy turned his hurt and confused gaze to Iraq and pointed at the TV.  
"I'm not doing that…"

His attention snapped back to the TV and he watched in horror as flashes of light illuminated the city and he heard the screams of people. His heart shattered when he saw families running for their lives being lead by French military men and he nearly sobbed when he saw how covered in ash everything was.

"Romano…" he said quietly and then made a mad dash for the upstairs phone.

"NORTH KOREA! GRAB HIM!" Iraq shouted and she heard the thud of the two men hitting the floor.  
"Let go! I need to call Romano! He needs to stop! He shouldn't be doing that!! Let go!!!" Italy sobbed as he tried to squirm and claw his way out of North Korea's grasp.

As if on cue the phone rang. Italy desperately tried to reach for it but the other man kept him pinned to the floor and was doing his best to keep him down.

The phone kept ringing and the three fell absolutely silent when it went to voicemail.  
Italy gasped as the first tones of Germany's pain wracked voice filled the air.  
"How dare you. I will never forgive you for this…you are now my enemy. You are not my friend, my ally, my anything. To me you are nothing. I hate you. I despise you and I never want to see your face again."

Then there was a click.

And then there was silence.

And then there was Italy's screaming and choking sobs filling the room. He sobbed and screamed and bawled uncontrollably, his heart completely broken and shattered. He wanted to scream for Germany, he wanted Germany to know the truth. But he knew he was stuck and unable to do a thing.

He sobbed because he was helpless.

He screamed because he was angry and hurt.

He bawled because he was broken.

And he was in absolute hysterics because he knew he had just lost his first and only love.

_Havoc- Hello to all~! Thanks for reading all the way to chapter EIGHT! I really cannot believe that it has gotten this far... -sniff- It seems like just yesterday I posted chapter one... But anyway, apologies for not posting for so long! Blame school and swine flu since both have got me beaten down. But any way thank you so much for reading and for all your nice reviews! Every review we read brings us much joy and happiness! Thank you all again so much for reading, we love you all~! -Passes out and sleep for days on end-_

_RMD: -Takes Havoc to a bed- Hello to all of you as well. Thank you so much for reading all the way until chapter eight, we couldn't have done it without your support! We love you all and with every review comment, favorite and watch you give us, we even love you more when you comment our illustrations too! Trust me you guys, this is a good one. We hope to see you all in the next chapter which we'll all enjoy since all hell broke lose! -Drags bed and Havoc away to sleep-_

_See you in the chapter~! And be sure to check out the chapter illustrations on Havoc's profile da~?_


	9. Insanity's Pain

_~How much longer must we fight?_

_I just want to be with you_

_When can we finally see peaceful light?_

_And it will be just us two? ~_

If there was one voice in the world that Denmark wished he would never have to hear ever again, it was Sweden's. The audible sound of Sweden barking orders to his men and the voice within Denmark's own head, that sounded much too like Sweden for his taste, mixed together, and at the moment was causing him even more stress then he already had.

Denmark was bloody and beaten up from what he assumed was Sweden's men attacking his land and was in no shape to run away, but at the time had no other choice. He was using the gun he had brought on board his plane as a crutch of sorts to support his weight as he tried his best to run and stay hidden. That was easier said than done however, since Denmark wanted to scream in agony as he felt the blows on his land increase.

Denmark was limping on his right leg since his left was almost useless due to the blood loss. He figured he had at least five deep gashes above and below the knee and he couldn't even begin to count the scratches. He was thankful that he still had use of his arms, but darkly knew that the mobility wouldn't last long.

He could only hope that the invading army would be brought down by his men soon.

And oh what a coward he felt like. The great and powerful Denmark, King of the Nordics, running away from his enemy and trying to stay alive, hoping his own men could do his job. But what else could he have done? He was certainly in no condition to fight and if he tried to face Sweden he might as well just have worn a target on his chest. He had to stay alive, he couldn't die…

Quite suddenly, he heard voices extremely close to him and, thinking they were Swedish, ducked into a patch of trees and shakily gripped his gun. Denmark tried to slow his erratic breathing and his wild heart beat but as the voices grew closer it was all he could do not to panic. A cold sweat broke across his forehead as suddenly all noises fell silent.

"Sir, are you sure we shouldn't pull back?"

Denmark's breathing stopped…

"I'm sure; I've got him where I want him. Push forward and keep attacking, he'll probably pass out or give up soon."

The accent…wasn't Swedish…and this was the person who was conducting this little stunt…

Slowly he poked his head around the side of the tree, trying to identify who this was. They were facing away from him, so he couldn't recognize the face but…that uniform looked so familiar… if only he could speak once more or turn around…

His eyes searched for anything that would grab the two men's attention without giving away his hiding place. There wasn't much that was in the area that he could reach. A few loose branches, twigs, rocks-

A rock…perfect. Denmark silently crouched down, making sure not to crack any twigs or leaves and gently picked up the small rock that lay at his feet. He turned his head to the right and saw another patch of trees a few feet away. It was dangerous since it was so close to the men, but he had no other way.

He flung the rock as far as he could and it flew across the clearing and successfully smacked into the trees causing noise and Denmark begged in his head.

"_Turn around, turn around, turn around-"_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"What was that?" Canada turned around to see where the loud thumping had come from. His worried blue eyes darted from tree to tree but he didn't see any movement. However he reloaded his gun and kept it at the ready.

"Sir, it was probably just an animal or a tree branch snapping." One of the lieutenants he had brought with him said.

"Or an enemy…or even someone is trying to hide…" Canada said skeptically taking a step towards where he heard the noise. He felt his arm being pulled back and he looked at the young man.

"I'm sorry sir… you could get hurt if you go looking for whatever it was… it's best to stay here." Canada nodded and patted the other man's shoulder.

"Get some more men and scout the area. Watch each others' backs as well… I don't want to lose anyone."

"Yes sir." The lieutenant saluted Canada and ran off in the other direction following his orders.

Canada sighed and leaned against a tree, fatigue and exhaustion threatening to grip him. His head was spinning and the ground seemed to be moving under him. Had the sky always been that dull of a blue…or was it gray right now? He sighed and tried to remember when he had started this invasion.

Well he had had that little confrontation with Cuba around eight that morning, had taken off at about nine, and had finally landed upon the Danish lands around twelve noon his time. Right now… it was honing in on seven thirty in the evening. Seven and half straight hours of fighting, of running, seven and a half straight hours of destruction… he felt horrible.

He let his eyes flutter close and he rested his head against the seemingly warm bark of the tree. Breathing deep was not an easy task as the once fresh and crisp air was now being smothered in smoke from guns and bombs. Canada felt his lungs start to sting and exploded into a fit of coughs. Maybe he should just go-

No. He would not give up. He started this invasion and he was going to finish it. He had made the decision, however risky and dangerous it was, to invade Denmark and he was going to finish and _win _the invasion even if it killed him.

He had to… for America. Canada's mind drifted to images of how proud America would be of him when he returned home. How his blue eyes would shine and how his mouth would pull into a wide smile, beaming at him for doing such a great job. America would pat his shoulder firmly; maybe even hug him, for giving them such an advantage in the midst of the war.

Canada weakly smiled as his head started to loll back and forth as the fatigue in his mind and body started to overcome him. His sleepy mind told him that he could rest now…

He heard twigs cracking quietly nearby, but he only saw America pulling him into his arms.

He heard the sounds of footsteps coming close to him, but he only saw America holding him close.

He heard some kind of clicking, but he only saw America looking down at him with half lidded eyes.

He heard only silence and saw only America's lips drawing closer to his, slowly closing the gap and-

He heard a loud bang… and it was close…and then his own scream…and his chest was burning… and who was shot…and why did it hurt so badly?!

Canada's eyes shot open and he saw blood coming from his chest, a bullet hole in the skin and muscle. He fell to the cold ground, images of America and the pale blonde Scandinavian standing over him quickly fading, darkness rushing to cloud his vision.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Sweden heard the gunshot and he knew it was close. He immediately sprinted in the direction of the shot and something inside of him told the Swede to fear the worst. His stride was so fast and long that he barely made a sound while moving, making him able to hear insane laughter a few hundred feet away.

He knew that laugh… he knew that laugh far too well. It was the laugh of a control maniac who had tried to overpower him years ago. It was the laugh of a man who had lost his mind due to loneliness and misery. It was the laugh of a sadistic country who had forced him and the other Nordics to remain with him.

It was the laughter of Denmark…and it certainly wasn't joyful.

Sweden burst through the patch of trees, gun at the ready, and found himself standing in a clearing with two others. To his left his saw Denmark, who obviously was not in a clear state of mind. Denmark was on his knees with his head thrown back, laughing manically to the sky and yelling between breaths," I've won! I WON!! I FINALLY WIN!!! TEACH YOU TO MESS WITH ME!!! STUPID BLONDE-DUMB BLONDE!!! CAUSE BLOOD ON DENMU'S LAND, DENMU CAUSE BLOOD ON YOU~~~!!!"

Sweden backed away just slightly from the Dane… this was not the Denmark he remembered…

He remembered Denmark as bright and bold, not dark and insane. He remembered the wide smile always on Denmark's face, not the evil grin that was now playing across his lips. He remembered Denmark's deep blue eyes that reminded him of a pure ocean blue…not the pale blue and the blood shot orbs that were staring at him now.

It made him so sad...

"D'nmark…?" Sweden asked apprehensively, wondering if the Scandinavian even knew if he was there.

"Sweden~! Sweden, Sweden, Sweden~~~! Look what Denmu did! Bad dumb blonde caused Denmu pain but Denmu stopped the pain!!" More loud and insane laughter came from Denmark's throat and he pointed to a heap that was only a few feet from the both of them.

"Wh't do y' me'n b'-" Sweden's eyes widened and he found himself unable to finish his sentence as he saw what Denmark was currently referring to as the "dumb blonde".

A few feet away, lying in a heap on the muddy and wet ground which was absorbing a massive amount of blood lay the northern of the American twins, Canada.

Canada's eyes, which were only a slit open, travelled to Sweden and in between his shallow breaths he managed to gasp out," I'm…sorry…Alfred…"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Oh this was just too funny to Denmark! The moment he had shot the Canadian something in his brain had clicked. Something in his brain had made him remember every single fight he lost…especially the ones with Sweden. Every single insult and put down had come racing into his head and drowned his rational mind.

The world was red now…blood red…and oh was it marvelous! All the trees glimmered as if adorned with rubies and the ground looked as if a river of the precious liquid that coursed through his veins was right in front of him. Oh what fun this was!

Canada was drowning in the blood; no he was the cause of the blood! His sweet artery candies were all spilling to the ground and filling his land with blood! He had finally beaten someone! Canada was blonde like him! And he was blonde like Sweden! If he beat every blonde in the world… oh he could smash out Sweden once and for all! But Sweden would be lonely if he was dead wouldn't he…? Ah then he would just cut his own throat with the blade of his own axe and follow him…

Would Sweden follow him if he died first? Would he scream at the sight of his blood or would he laugh? Denmark thought how blood could be funny…well he was in a world of it…walking blood bags.

He threw his head back in hysterics as the Canadian started to cough and choke, blood flying from his mouth followed. He heard Canada calling out for America, but America wasn't coming now was he? This fact made him laugh even harder! No one came for Denmark when he had pain and no one was coming for Canada!

And now he saw Sweden…and to think he had been scared of the Swede earlier that day! Sweden looked so helpless…such a helpless blood bag! He smiled at Sweden and he imagined his teeth growing sharp in that grin! Oh such pretty fangs you have there Denmu! What beautiful teeth to sink into skin with!

Denmark shakily stood up and in the world of red and blood, started to slowly wobble towards Sweden, teeth bared and gun in his hand.

"Sweden~? Sweden, do you ever get _lonely_~? Do you ever want to die~? Oh Sweden…beautiful, precious Sweden…years ago…saving the Nordics and causing Denmu to be lonely and wish for death…"

He could hear Sweden's voice telling him to stay away but Denmark simply ignored it in his unstable frame of mind.

"I can end pain you know~ Does Suwu want the pain to go bye bye? Does Suwu think death is lonely…?" Denmark's steps came to a halt as he was now in front of Sweden, looking into his eyes that shone with a bit of fear…finally emotion! Denmark raised his hand to Sweden's cheek and brushed it with his knuckles.

"Ah…Suwu's skin is so soft…" Denmark leaned his head next to Sweden's and said close to his ear," If death is lonely…Denmu will follow Suwu…"

Denmark backed away from his ear and pressed a long kiss to Sweden's cheek, feeling the soft skin beneath his lips.

"D'n…m' sorry…" Denmark suddenly felt something smash into the back of his head and all thoughts were erased from his mind. The red world faded and as he felt himself grow limp. He also felt his weight being supported by strong arms as unconsciousness greeted him like a warm blanket.

He could have sworn he heard crying…

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

France sighed as he looked down onto Paris. Paris, usually such a beautiful and wondrous city to him… now looked so dull. Though it had not changed and though it had not suffered any damage, it looked so different than before. The people were lively, as always, as were the streets and shops, but tonight it just seemed so…lonely.

The lights did not shine as bright, the smiles did not seem as charming, the air did not feel as happy, and Paris did not feel as beautiful.

France tried to lie to himself for the reason he felt this way. He had been trying to lie to himself for weeks on end now. Truth be told though, France was a horrible liar, especially to himself. He knew why his favorite place in the world did not hold the same wonder and luster as it always had. His mind knew the exact reason but just even thinking about it was far too painful.

He missed England…he missed him so much… and he knew it was his own fault.

France thought back to the day when he and England had exploded at each other. England had hung up the phone after agreeing to ally with America's side and France was furious. England assumed France's anger came from England scolding him for going out drinking and for supposedly sleeping with someone else. This was not the reason though. France was mad at England, because England had broken a promise.

France distinctly remembered one night, before all the heat of the fighting and all the deception had started, lying under the covers with England held tightly in his arms in the dead of a starry night.

"England…please promise me you won't join the war."

England looked up from where his face was nuzzling into France's neck, and up into his eyes which were serious and concerned. "Why? I can handle myself."

"I don't want you getting hurt…" France wanted to say much more to England. He wanted to tell England how scared he got at the thought of England fighting and France not being there to protect him. He knew England was strong and he knew that England could protect himself, but France still worried sick about him.

"Fine… I promise…" England said as he was falling into sleep while being held even tighter in France's arms.

And England had broken that promise.

Almost immediately he had tried to convince him to call America back and tell him that he changed his mind but England strongly argued.

Harsh words hard been slung, along with yelling and accusations, which had ended horribly wrong. France had grabbed England's arm, trying to get him to listen, and when England tried to jerk away, France squeezed and yanked his arm painfully and yelled right in his face.

His heart broke as he remembered the way England looked at him, eyes full of anger and hurt. France had tried to apologize, but England, not willing to forgive him so easily, pointed harshly to the door and told him to get out.

That was the last time France has spoken with England.

He didn't like things this way; the loneliness and the feeling of England being so distant from him. It was breaking his heart.

France remembered the days before he had England in his life. Those days had been so dark and dismal with no one for him to truly love or give any sort of affection to at all.

Then came England. It had never happened before but France had quite literally fallen in love at first sight.

Now getting England to return his feelings…? That had been quite a challenge. England wasn't like the others at all. England was stubborn and rejected every single attempt France made at wooing him. England was convinced that France thought of him as one more attractive body, not an actual person.

France proved otherwise when he showed up at England's doorstep with a bouquet of roses, wearing a suit, and asking for dinner. Things had taken off from there really. England found himself actually enjoying his time with France, France had kept his eyes on England and hands to himself, France took him home and despite France's usual actions, he left England at the front door with a goodbye and chaste kiss on his cheek.

France didn't know how and he didn't know why, but a few days later England called asking if he wanted to possibly maybe, I don't know, sometime tonight perhaps, just possibly…have dinner again? He had never ever been able to break through England's wall of stubbornness, but a part of him didn't want to. He loved his stubbornness and temper, along with the rest of him. He loved every single part of England and would never want to change him.

Though… he wished he could have changed himself. He wished he could have changed time. He wished he could change the war. He wished he could change anything…so long as he had England by his side again.

France heaved a heavy sigh while leaning back a bit on his balcony ledge. He looked downward again at his capital below his feet. Not too many people were out anymore since it was getting a bit late and he was in the residential area. Where he was, it was pretty quiet. A few people here and there, a car or two, peaceful almost.

France closed his eyes and felt the cool night air on his skin and took in the few sounds he could hear. A woman's heels clicking on the sidewalk, someone next door making dinner, a bakery across the street closing for the night, bushes were crashing loudly a few feet away-wait.

France looked down at the front walk, the sounds from the bushes in front of his house had ceased quite suddenly. He kept staring at them suspiciously. He didn't know why but something was off…

He leapt down from the balcony edge and crept slowly and quietly to the bush. The closer he got the stranger it seemed. He called out to it asking if anyone was there and he could have sworn he heard whimpering. France parted the leaves gently and as he saw what lay inside the thick bush, a grin made its way across his face.

"Hello prisoner."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Fear and anger were both predominant in America as Russia's house came closer and closer into view. His breath quickened as the tall steel gates also came into eyeshot, frost covered and intimidating. Lithuania, who was walking by his side, tried to be somewhat of a comfort but he too had nervousness and fear all across his face.

It was understandable seeing as how they were about to go and fight the most sadistic and crazy country America or Lithuania had ever seen… no sweat.

America remembered how during the Cold War, and almost his entire life to be painfully honest, the violet and frozen eyes had stared at him, a grin joining the maniac's face. America never wanted to give off the impression that he was scared of the nation, because after all he was the hero, but Russia… Russia was a different matter. A different matter entirely since the war had started.

He had heard only rumors but those rumors had said that Russia was even easier to provoke these days. Almost as if, if you breathed the wrong way around him, he would snap at you. Stress obviously was not a good thing for the Russian to possess.

America looked over worriedly to Lithuania. He knew the extremely painful and horrid time the Baltic had had when he had been under control of the man. He knew how badly Lithuania was scarred and he was a bit worried.

"Lithuania… if you want you can go-"

"I'm not leaving you America. We're giving this psychopath what he deserves." Lithuania had a serious and determined look in his eyes, a stare so fierce America never thought the nation was possible of possessing it.

"Thank you Lithuania…" America nodded and found his fear fleeing him and anger replacing all previous emotions as the Russian's front door was now within a few feet. America thought of all the times Russia had hurt or tried to hurt him and others and his anger and thirst for vengeance became ravenous.

Sparing Russia no privacy America harshly kicked the door handle, making the wood of the door slam against the wall.

"RUSSIA YOU BASTARD!" America yelled at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing through the eerily quiet and large house. America's and Lithuania's hearts both pounded as they waited for some sort of response. Anything… footsteps… a voice… even a moving shadow… anything to end this anticipation. This kind of nervousness was killing them both. Lithuania looked like he was about to jump right out of his skin or collapse in a screaming heap on the floor, but despite appearance he held strong.

"We need to go in… and look." America said not being able to take this strained silence anymore. Lithuania simply nodded and they took slow and careful steps inside the nation's house. Being invited to Russia's house was nerve wracking enough, but breaking in to confront him… that was just terrifying.

Lithuania and America stood back to back, slowly venturing deeper into the house, making sure to check every hallway and dark room thoroughly for the man. After searching the entire downstairs their attention went to the dark staircase that led to the upper floor. Wishing they would have brought flashlights, America and Lithuania slowly and carefully made their way up the steps.

America had to constantly remind himself why they were even there in the first place.

"_Stay focused America… remember the crap he's caused you and everybody else all these years… think of how sweet it will be to get some well deserved pay back… think of how this will put you ahead in the war…"_

"Psst… America…" Lithuania said quietly nudging him from behind.

America's mind snapped back to focus and his heart pounded a little faster at Lithuania's strained voice. "What is it…?"

"There's a door at the end of the hall… that's where his study is…"

"And…?"

"The door is open…"

"So…?"

"That door is never open…" America quickly turned and saw the door to Russia's study wide open. He couldn't see that well into the room since they were all the way down the hall and the room was dark since the curtains were closed, but he saw the chair at Russia's desk was pulled away from it… as if someone had got out of it.

"The entire time I lived with Russia… that door was always closed and locked… no matter how many people were in the house…"

"Ah~ what a wonderful memory you have Liet-kun~" And suddenly both America and Lithuania felt a cold gloved hand clamp down on their shoulders.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

With that touch… everything came racing back to Lithuania. Every shriek, every scream, every beating, every nightmare, every cold glare, every evil sadistic smile, every bad thing that had happened the entire time he was held prisoner in Russia house came flooding into his head at a rapid speed.

That cold hand… touching him, slapping him, beating him, pulling his hair, choking his neck, grabbing his clothes, breaking his bones…

And that ice filled voice… he thought he had heard the last of it many years ago… the voice that used to drip with cruelty and call out his name. The voice that used to torment him when he cried or screamed in pain. The voice that a few times was quiet and peaceful, only sadness and hurt in it, but returning to insanity a few minutes later. That voice… was right behind him… and it was breathing right near his neck.

"Nice to see the both of you~" Lithuania was the first to scream.

Both men whirled around and their eyes met the violent and vibrant orbs that belonged to Russia. He was smiling at them widely, all his teeth showing, and his face was dark with shadows.

"And what do I owe this visit~? It certainly wasn't expected."

"We came to finally take you down."

"Oh did you now?" Russia's eyes landed on Lithuania and his smile grew wider as his eyes traced up and down the smaller nation. Lithuania could practically feel his skin burning…

"You've been causing shit for years Russia…now you're going to finally get what's been coming to you." America continued bravely, anger and determination shining brightly in the blue of his eyes.

"And what exactly has been coming to me America? You and Liet trying to defeat me? Bring me to my knees? Have me screaming for mercy? I don't think so…"

"Oh you don't? Why the hell not?! You caused almost everyone in the world nothing but pain and suffering! I could blame half the world's problems on you! I blame this whole war on you!"

"Oh but I wouldn't say that everything is my fault. In fact… I would say very little is my fault… especially things that happen when someone gets badly involved with one of my allies…"

America's eyebrows tightened together in confusion and he glared back at Russia. "What are you saying…?"

Russia tilted his head to the side, bangs slightly curtaining one of his eyes. "You mean you haven't heard yet?"

"Haven't heard what…?"

"Such a shame about your brother…"

America's face light up with anger and fury and terror.

"**What happened to Canada?!?!?!?**" America yelled at the top of his lungs and was suddenly in front of Russia screaming in his face, all sense and fear washed from his body. "If you did ANYTHING to Canada I swear I will _**KILL YOU**_. I will take my gun and blow your brains right out of your head if you did ANYTHING to him!!!"

"Actually it had nothing to do with me America~" Russia chuckled darkly and met the American's glare. "Denmark was only trying to protect himself… I don't blame him at all."

"What happ-"

Russia's hard fist connected with America's jaw, knocking him backwards. Lithuania caught him before he could fall and hit the ground.

"Stop interrupting me. It's quite rude and it really annoys me." Russia said flatly. Russia's eyes trailed up from the American's feet all the way to his eyes. America stood up straight, regaining his intimidating air only to have it come crashing back down when Russia calmly said," We think he's dead."

America's eyes widened and his whole body stood still as if it was frozen. Did he just say…dead? No…not Canada… anyone but Canada…no…no…

"_**NOOOOO!!!!!**_" America cried out loudly and gripped Russia's collar, starting to shake him. "**What happened?!?!?! Where is he?!?!?"**

"Denmark shot him right in the chest while you were on your way here to get your selfish revenge… such a shame. If you had gone there maybe this wouldn't have happened…"

America stumbled backward, in complete shock and fear. And most of all anger… anger at Russia, anger at Denmark… but mostly… anger at towards himself…

Lithuania reached out a hand and touched America's shoulder gently.

"America… go find him. I'll fight Russia." Lithuania said, staring straight ahead at Russia.

"Lithuania I can't just-"

"America, **go**." Lithuania looked at America, his emerald eyes free of fear but ablaze with anger towards the Russian.

"Ooh~ I get Liet-kun all to myself~" Russia said, his pipe now clenched in his hand. Lithuania pushed America to the stairs and yelled after him. "Go America! I'll be okay!"

America looked back over his shoulder once…then twice… and a few moments later the front door slammed shut announcing America's leave. Lithuania looked back to the nation in front of him and pulled a dagger from his belt.

"Are you really going to hurt me Liet~? Or maybe a better question would be _can_ you hurt me?"

"I have no problems hurting you Russia… none at all." Lithuania said with an even voice.

"And why would that be? Are you not afraid of me?"

"Not anymore Russia. I used to be when you had control of me and my brothers, but now that I'm free… I have nothing to fear. I came for one reason and that is to finally cause you the same pain you caused me."

"Are you really that angry Liet~? I was only trying to protect you back then…" Russia's words were true yes but they still rang with sadism and evil.

"Of course I'm angry since your so called protection caused me so much fear and hurt and pain and tears… so many things Russia. You forced your problems onto Estonia and now he fears capture every time he steps outside. You forced your problems onto Latvia and he still wakes up screaming from terrifying nightmares. You forced your problems onto me and I still suffer the consequences…"

"So what are you saying…?" Russia asked his eyes almost slits. How dare Lithuania say these sorts of things to him! He was only trying to protect him from the evil creatures of the world back then! He was only trying to help! Why couldn't Lithuania see that every bit of pain was out of-

"I hate you."

Even though America was now half way down the block he could hear pain wracked screams coming from Russia's house.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Germany was being led down a long hallway, a building somewhere in France he believed, and it was apparently important. France had coming running to his side, yelling that caught a prisoner. Germany had been lying in bed, recovering from the previous bombing. Japan and Korea had been able to fight off the Italian planes after hours of combat and France had managed to evacuate most of his people. Still he had lost so many and so much… it was painful to think about all the lives that had been lost…

However when this news had come to him he had been confused but at the same time intrigued, even though France wouldn't tell him what side this country was from or who it even was.

As they walked down the long corridor Germany, who had to walk slow since he ached all over, was listening to France's supposed instructions.

"I couldn't get a hold of Russia today but I figured I'd come to you since you're basically second in command."

"Why do you need me though? Aren't you smart enough to-"

"No I need you to interrogate him."

"Why me?"

"I think you might want to." France said stopping in front of a heavy locked door. He pulled keys out of his pocket and started to undo each lock slowly. When the last lock was unlocked and free, France looked at Germany and said," If at all possible… go a little easy on him. He still calls me brother…"

And with that, France pressed the keys into Germany's hand and pushed him inside the small room. Germany saw a man, tightly bound to a chair and his head hanging slightly so that he was looking at his lap. Germany heard the door shut and lock behind him with another set of keys.

"Hey you, who are-"

"Germany…" Germany's eyes widened as the man's head looked up and his own blue eyes were met with all too familiar chestnut brown ones.

"I-Italy…" Italy looked at him, his face filled with a pain that Germany had never seen before. Italy always so happy and vibrant but… he looked so defeated…and broken…

Italy tried to hold in tears but it was far too difficult seeing Germany in this kind of condition. Germany looked so pain filled; the effects of the bombing had definitely taken their toll on the nation. For one, Germany was limping causing his usual straight and perfect posture to be painful. He looked like he couldn't move that well, causing him to look like he was entirely made of glass. He looked extremely tired too… probably from fighting the pain the entire day. He hated seeing Germany like this… and he felt such guilt because his own brother had caused it… and he hadn't even known…

As his attempts proved futile, tears started to stream down Italy's face. He couldn't even look at the blonde anymore…

Germany, worried about the nation's sudden tears, was about to reach for Italy, but then he felt his arm ache and burn from the attack. Sudden fury flamed in his stomach.

"You… you lying little idiot!!!" Germany roared. Italy flinched as Germany towered over him coming within only a few inches of his face. "How DARE you do such an awful thing!! How _dare_ you!!! Do you know how many of my PEOPLE you KILLED??!?! THOUSANDS!! As if my people weren't fearful enough! Now they don't even want to return to their homes! Well I should say the homes that are left STANDING!!!"

No it couldn't be like this! Germany couldn't hate him! He didn't want it like this!! Italy looked up at him with pleading and wide eyes, his voice the only method he could use to try and calm him down. "Germany please! I swear it wasn't me! I had no idea that it-"

"Nein!!! I don't want to hear it!! You almost DESTROYED my capital and you almost KILLED me!!! There is absolutely nothing you could do that could-"

Italy snapped. He was sick of remaining silent. He was tired of not being heard. He was through with Germany not listening and not knowing what happened. He was tired of the pain of Germany hating him.

"**WHY WOULD I HURT YOU IF I LOVED YOU?!" **Italy burst, words flying from his mouth and tears pouring faster from his eyes. "I never wanted that to happen! I didn't even know that it was going to! No one told me about it!! Everyone kept it a secret from me! My brother is the one who thought of it and carried it out!! I had no idea Germany please believe me!! The second I heard I tried to stop it!! Iraq and North Korea tackled me and held me down so I couldn't leave!!

"I barely even wanted to ally with them in the first place!! I wanted to be with you from the start! Romano is the one who was telling me to join with him since family sticks together!! I had no other choice!! I WANTED to be with YOU! I wanted you to HEAR me or at least listen! You slammed the door in my face! You didn't even let me explain!!

"I tried to sneak out and tell you but I got caught by Iraq's men and now I tried to sneak out and come here to see you and apologize for something I didn't even do but I got caught by France and now… now you hate me…"

Italy sobbed and his shoulders shook with every cry and stifled scream that wracked his throat. The restraints around his middle were making it hard for him to breathe and he started to cough. He tried to push through and speak. "You hate me Germany… b-but… I still really…love you."

Germany stared wide eyed at the nation if front of him. He heard his words… he thought of them… and his heart broke. How could he have been so stupid…? He knew that South Italy hated him… he knew that all too well… why had he gotten so mad at Italy? Did he lose that much of himself during this war to forget that Italy was the one who was the closest to him in the world? Did he lose that much of himself during this war to forget that Italy was the one who cared about him the most?

And then… it hit him. All his confusion with Italy… and all his pain that was caused when he thought of him… was his own fault. Italy had never given the impression that he didn't care about Germany. He had never done anything wrong… it was the other way around. Germany was the one who hadn't listened to Italy when he had allied with someone else. Germany was the one who had shoved Italy out of his office. Germany was the one who didn't try to save Italy from Iraq's men when he was being pulled away. Germany was the one who hadn't let Italy explain at all. Germany was the one who had stopped trying to talk to Italy. Germany was the one who had insulted Italy. None of this was Italy's fault. No anger or hurt or sadness had come from Italy directly. Germany was the one who said hurtful things to Italy… Italy was completely innocent…the entire time.

Italy had his eyes clenched shut and was biting his lip trying to hold in sobs. Of course Germany hated him… why wouldn't he? Germany didn't care what he had to say… why should he listen…?

But suddenly… he felt his restraints being loosened and felt them all fall to the floor. His wrists, ankles, and middle were free from the chair and he looked up at Germany and couldn't believe what he saw.

"Germany…why are you crying…?" Germany's blue eyes looked at him sadly while tears were flowing in steady streams down his cheeks. Italy had never seen Germany cry before…

Almost instantaneously, Italy felt himself being pulled upward and then Germany's strong arms were around his small figure, holding him tightly. Germany's face was leaned forward, almost buried in his shoulder, despite their height difference. Germany's body was shaking gently with cries and Italy heard words he thought he would never hear from Germany's mouth.

"Veneziano…I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry for everything I've done… I could never hate you…ever." Italy's eyes widened and he stood still as Germany continued to speak. "I've let all of this trouble with the world get to me… and it's made me horrible to you… you're the one I'm closest to in the world… and I let this stupid war stop that… I didn't mean a word I said to you and… I'm sorry for being so cruel… you have nothing to be sorry for and… even if you did I already would have forgiven you… I don't expect you to forgive me… I know I-"

"Ludwig… hush. It's okay." Italy wrapped his arms around Germany's neck, hugging him back. Just being there in Germany's arms and having him apologize was enough… having Germany not hate him… he figured a miracle.

For a moment… they both forgot about the war. They forgot about sides and alliances and everything. There was no such thing as sides. There was no such thing as the Triangle war. There was no fighting. There was no betrayal. There was no hurt or lies or deceit. For a moment… it was only the two of them. Germany closed his eyes and felt Italy's head rest on his shoulder.

Italy didn't deserve to be in here. Italy should not be a prisoner of war…especially under Russia's side. It would completely destroy and break him. He breathed deep and knew what he had to do.

"Italy… I want you to do something."

"Ve? What is it…?" Italy asked quietly.

"I want you to run."

_Authors' Notes_

_Havoc: Big, huge, extremely LONG list of apologies from the both of us! First, I think bad luck has struck both me and Red since both of our computers crashed which is why this took me so long to write. I had to write on the desktop and it takes me FOREVER to write on here!_

_Red: Me on the other hand, my computer that's installed with my tablet and the program I use to draw the illustrations crashed as well. I use my Dad's computer to go online but he won't' let me download anything. So I'm sorry that the illustration might be a _little_ late._

_Havoc: And also, sorry that this chapter is long! But it was necessary to the plot...right? RIGHT???_

_Red: Somebody better say right otherwise she's going to have a mental break down._

_Havoc: But anyway, thank you so much to all our fans! We appreciate every single one of you so much and we love every review we get! I made sure to work extra hard on the Germany Italy segment for you guys!_

_R: Trust me we really are grateful to you all. Without you we would be nowhere. Please review?_

_H: I LOVE YOU ALL!!!!!!!!_

_See you in the next chapter~!_


	10. The Hourglass Is Draining

_~Though it's dark where we are_

_I want you to know how I feel_

_And anywhere you go, near or far_

_I swear what I feel for you is real~_

"…You want me to…?" Italy, who was still being held tightly in Germany's strong arms, looked up at the man, the brown of his curious eyes shining against bright blue. Germany wanted him to run? Run where? Italy didn't want to leave yet. He had just had Germany brought back into his life and he most certainly didn't want to part from him so soon.

Germany nodded and restated his request. "I want you to run Veneziano. Get out of here." Germany looked down at the smaller man in his arms and felt the same fear of parting. For weeks he had wanted to do nothing but this. Just to hold Italy and comfort him, tell him that he didn't hate him. The entire time this war had been going on, all Germany wanted to do was to leave and spend time with Italy again. He craved the little bit of peace the two had once had. Right now, that was what they were finally getting, each other's desires; Italy's friendship and warmth and Germany's acceptance and care.

"How could I Ludwig? I'm a prisoner remember? I can't just leave, I'd get hurt." Germany nodded solemnly not wanting to see the Italian get hurt even worse than he already was. He was covered in light bruises, probably from France, and he had big black rings under his eyes, showing the effects of sleepless nights.

Germany fell silent and rested his head atop Italy's as he dove into deep thought. Germany knew he would have hell to pay for this later. France would be furious, Russia would most likely punish him somehow, and if anyone found out he had purposely let Italy go it could get him into serious trouble.

But at the time he didn't care. He owed it to Italy to set him free and to allow him to breathe the fresh air again. Germany probably knew best of all how easily Italy could get hurt, emotionally and physically, and how much he would cry if he suffered any sort of pain. Germany imagined Italy crying late at night from the pain that he himself had caused and it killed him. A little bit of pain on his end was a small price to pay for Italy's happiness.

"I'll think of something…" was his reply as he sighed heavily, his head starting to ache.

"I trust you Ludwig…but let me stay like this for a while." Italy spoke softly and laid his head on Germany's chest as he tightened his hold on the man. He let his eyes flutter close and a smile spread across his face as Germany's hold on him firmed as well. Even if he was stuck in a dark room with almost no light and even if he was a prisoner, as long as he was with Germany he was the happiest he could ever be.

The arms wrapped around his smaller body were comforting and made him feel at home. The warmth that was radiating against his own made him so glad he felt as if he could cry. The man standing so close to him and the man that was holding him made him feel so alive and that he actually mattered to someone in the world. Italy knew the man standing in front of him was the man he was going to love for the rest of his life.

Their chests were pressed together and Italy could feel their heart beats match and drum in the same rhythm. Italy's mind started to drift and soon it went blank as he let only the sound of their breath fill his ears and the feeling of drum beats fill his senses. Germany's warmth covered him like a blanket and the embrace he was in made him feel safer than he had felt in months. Ever since this horrible war had started Italy had felt as if he had been standing on sifting sand, but when he was with Germany… he felt that it was impossible for him to get hurt. He felt that the German would always save and protect him… Germany was like his knight in armor. Italy smiled in spite of himself at the thought of this.

Suddenly, Germany's voice was also filling his ears.

"Veneziano…did you mean that?"

"Did I mean what?" Italy said his voice peaceful and his eyes still closed, images of himself and Germany filling his mind.

Suddenly the blonde's heart beat started to race and Italy, who noticed it immediately, looked up a bit worried to have his eyes captivated by clear blue. "Do you really love me?"

Italy's brown eyes widened and his faced flamed to a bright shade of pink as this question left Germany's lips. His breathing caught in his throat and suddenly he felt as if his heart would leap from his chest and scamper out the door. All he could do was stare back into Germany's deep blue eyes and remember how to breathe. He had tried to say this to the man before and he had every word he wanted to say planned out, so why was it so hard now? Why couldn't he remember a word of what he wanted to say? And why did the words that he did remember sound so cheap? Why couldn't he spit it out?

Italy was afraid. He had had a door slammed in his face. He had been dragged away. He had been yelled at, screamed at, hated, hurt, and so many other things. It was as if the world didn't want him to be happy with Germany. It was as if the universe didn't want his feelings to be known.

Despite all this however, Italy shoved everything aside. His fear, his nervousness, his hurt, everything that had happened and tried to his best to tell Germany what he had been trying to tell him for years.

"I-I do…" Italy avoided Germany's eyes and looked to the floor as he continued to speak, trying to keep his voice together, air in his lungs, and his bravery intact. "And not just that…I-I don't just love you… I love you as my best friend and I care about you a lot… I still remember the promise we made each other back in World War Two where if you were in trouble I'd save you. I don't just love you…" Italy lifted his head back up and looked in Germany's blue eyes dead on. "I'm _in _love with you."

Germany couldn't believe what he had just heard. Italy…was in love with him? His own heart started to race and his eyes widened as he froze where he stood… no one had ever told him that before…no one. For weeks he had heard Italy saying in his head _"Germany I love you!!!" _but he never thought he meant it in that way, He knew the Italian was affectionate so he figured he meant he cared a great deal about him, but now…Italy had just proved him otherwise.

Italy felt Germany stiffen and knew he had just over stepped a boundary. He pulled away from the German and started apologizing one hundred times over. Italy kept his eyes on the floor, hoping no tears would make their way down his cheeks. "I'm sorry Ludwig, I-I know you don't like me that way, i-it's okay I understand. I'm sorry I told you, I should have kept it to myself and I know you wouldn't want me and I-"

A strong arm wrapped around Italy's waist and pulled him in close while a hand was tilting his face upward and a strong voice was speaking soothingly to him with half lidded ocean blue eyes," Hush." Quite suddenly Germany's lips were touching his, on his, _kissing _his. Italy was certain he was dreaming! Germany would never kiss him…would he? And he could never possibly return his feelings…could he?!

"Where would ever get the idea I wouldn't want you?" Germany murmured gently against Italy's lips. He wrapped his arms tighter around the Italian's waist and continued to speak into his ear as if reading Italy's thoughts.

"You're the only one who bothered to get close to me. You're the only one who broke through my wall and got me to feel emotions I thought I lost. You're the only one who can make me smile anymore. You're the only one who makes me feel truly cared about. You're the only one who sees past all the bad and accepts who I am. You're the only one I feel happy with. You're the only one I want by my side and Italy… you are my only one."

Italy's heart raced as the soft, deep words were said to him, each filled with so much truth and sincerity there was not a shred of doubt in Italy's mind anymore. Germany didn't hate him nor did he ever. Germany never thought less of him and the war didn't change that. Germany cared about Italy deeply and from the sound of Germany pouring his heart to Italy, he always had.

Italy wasn't sure how much bigger his heart could swell to fit his love for Germany.

"Ludwig…" Italy whispered against the German's neck, his arms secure around his warm body," I love you so much."

Germany felt bad for what he was about to do. He had just told Italy how much he meant to him and now he'd have to bring down Italy's joy. He knew how much Italy loved him and he knew how strongly he felt about Italy. He would have liked nothing more than to say the same thing to Italy and to hold and kiss him for hours on end but no matter how much they didn't want to realize it; they were still in the war. And Germany knew full well that in war, feelings could get in the way of so much and they could get someone hurt… or even worse. It made him feel terrible

He grimly knew that if he said he loved Italy back it could ruin things. What if Germany got hurt and lost an arm? Would Italy still love him then? What if Germany got hit with a bullet in the throat and lost his voice for good? Could Italy love a mute person? What if Germany lost use of his legs? What if someone found out he was in love with the enemy? What if he got so lonely because he was in love he too tried to sneak to see Italy?

So many dangerous situations and instances came flying into his head that the words he had been dying to say now retreated into the back of his throat and choked him.

He couldn't tell Italy… he knew it would hurt him but it was for both of their own good.

Germany remained silent and he kissed the top of Italy's head and almost choked on the words that made him feel like the most horrible person alive.

"I know."

Italy looked up at Germany with shining brown eyes he adored, but now they were filled with confusion and a touch of hurt. Germany tried his best to avoid Italy's somewhat sad stare and attempted to hold back his all too rare tears.

"Ludwig…?" Germany begged silently. He begged in his mind for Italy not to ask him. Not to ask him that one question he would have to answer. The answer that was impossible to avoid or to dodge. The one question that terrified Germany beyond belief because he knew how hard it was to avoid this kind of truth.

"Yes Veneziano?" Germany asked, his voice just barely a whisper.

"…Do you love me too?" The bomb dropped in Germany's gut and the silence surrounding them was enough to kill him. Germany stroked the side of Italy's face with his hand, running his thumb over Italy's soft cheek. He kept Italy's face tilted upward and tried to speak to him the gentlest and softest he could.

"Veneziano, I adore you." He knew that wasn't what Italy wanted to hear but Germany kept speaking as if to calm the Italian's nerves. "I care about more than anyone and you mean so much to me. I never would want to see you go and I would never want to leave you alone. I know this is going to sound like an excuse but this war is putting too much at danger if I answered that… but please…wait. Wait until this is all over and wait until all the fighting has stopped. Until every gun has been laid to rest and until every uniform has been hung, that is when this war will be over. When everyone stops fighting… we'll go somewhere bright and sunny. We'll go somewhere where there are flowers everywhere and where no one can find us. We can eat pasta every day and we can walk through the woods that are nearby. No one can hurt us there and no one can tell us who to side with. It'll just be you and me."

Italy fell silent and his gaze stayed locked with the German's. Germany closed his eyes and kissed Italy's forehead for a long time while cradling him in his arms. Suddenly he felt Italy's mouth curve upward underneath his thumb and he heard Italy's voice.

"Ludwig? I'd really like to go that place." Italy grinned up at Germany and continued with a bright tone. "It _can_ be just the two of us. No one can know about it besides us, so it'll be our secret. Can we have it near the ocean?"

"Of course we can." Germany said reciprocating Italy's smile.

"And can we go the ocean with a picnic basket and wine? And can we stay there until night time and then lie on our backs and watch the stars?" Italy asked with wide eyes and a beaming smile. Germany nodded and held Italy close to him, starting to rock him gently back and forth.

"I'd like nothing better." Italy giggled and threw his arms over Germany's shoulders, bringing their lips together in a sweet and loving kiss. His fingers laced together behind Germany's head and the corners of their lips turned upward as they were pressed together.

"I can't wait for this war to be over~" Italy said, the cheer now back in his voice as his mind floated to the wonderful images Germany had given him. He imagined the two of them walking hand in hand along what he imagined as a sparkling ocean coast. He imagined the two of them sharing a bottle of red wine under a tree's shading leaves. He imagined the two of them together… and happy.

"Me neither." Germany's smile, no matter how wide, died slowly and his tone turned serious. "Though I'm not doing you any favors by keeping you in here… I need to think of a way to get you out. In my opinion Iraq should take your place in here."

"What if you said I wasn't in here when you came in?" Italy offered, trying to help the thought process.

Germany shook his head no and started to pace the room, releasing Italy from his embrace. "That wouldn't work. There are no windows for you to get out by and France saw you when he pushed me in. What if I said you knocked me out and managed to escape?"

This time Italy was the one to disagree. "I couldn't hit you let alone knock you down Ludwig, but…" a smirk started to make its way across Italy's mouth and he started to giggle again.

"What? What is it?" Germany asked curiously, wanting to know what the Italian was thinking.

"I _am_ a pretty fast runner and I _am_ kind of slippery~!" Germany arched an eyebrow not knowing where Italy's mind was venturing.

"What if after you spent so much time 'torturing' me you didn't tie my back up since you thought I was too 'beaten and battered' to get up and what if you when you opened the door to leave I just so happened to 'slip out'?"

The same smirk found its way onto Germany's face. "And it _is_ pretty dark in these corridors and I don't know my way around here. Plus I can't see so well in the dark so I may accidentally grab the wrong person."

"Which wrong person Ludwig?" Italy asked, getting excitement from playing along and from where their plan was going.

"Oh you know him; he's got blonde wavy hair, facial hair, blue eyes. What if I 'accidentally' grabbed him and I didn't know it was him because I covered his mouth preventing him from talking, thinking it was you I didn't let him go in time-"

"Oops Ludwig! You've let me escape!" Italy's giggles increased but kept his laughter quiet. "So what do I have to do?"

Germany kept his voice low and explained their plan to Italy in whispers. "I'm going to start yelling and screaming and hit the wall. I want you to stand in the corner and the second I open the door I want you to run past me. Do you remember the way out of here?" Italy nodded and for the first time in the entire time Germany had known Italy, he was finally taking a plan seriously.

For a few moments the two stood apart from each other, just looking at one another unmoving. They knew they wouldn't be able to see or speak with each other until the war was done and buried and it killed the both of them. They both just wanted to be finally happy with each other.

Germany slowly reached out his arms and spoke softly and lovingly to Italy. "Come here."

Italy raced the few steps forward and threw himself into Germany's arms, clinging tightly, trying to get every last piece of Germany he could before he had leave. He wanted to remember him and Germany just like this so that he could have something to dream about and savor until the end of all the bloody battles.

"I'm going to miss you Veneziano."

"I'm going to miss you to Ludwig." Before releasing from each other's embrace, Ludwig left several long and short kisses on Italy's lips and then two on his cheeks. He grasped Italy's smaller hands firmly in his as he said almost pained, "Please wait for me."

Italy nodded and kissed Germany's nose. "Of course I will." With that Italy backed into the corner and covered his ears while Germany went to work.

Germany took a huge breath of air into his lungs and thought of only Russia while he yelled and screamed.

"YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT! YOU KNOW HOW MUCH TROUBLE YOU'RE CAUSING ME?! A HELL OF A LOT!! IF IT WERE UP TO ME I WOULD NEVER HAVE TO SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN!!!" Germany kicked his boot against the wall harshly a few times and then punched the door for effect, hoping the Frenchman would hear. "YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A WASTE!! YOU CAUSE EVERYONE AROUND YOU TROUBLE AND I AM SO SICK OF YOU AND YOUR CRAP!!!"

Germany then pushed his foot against the chair that Italy had been tied to and kicked it across the room. He looked at Italy who was still in the corner trying not to laugh. Germany smiled as he continued. Italy must have known that images of Russia were racing through his mind.

"I HOPE THAT YOUR COUNTRY FALLS AND BURNS TO THE GROUND!! YOU HEAR ME?! YOU ARE LOSING THIS WAR!! LOSING!!! IF YOU HAVE ANY HOPE OF WINNING THEN YOU ARE INSANE!! YOU PUT ME THROUGH HELL IN WORLD WAR TWO AND YOU'RE PUTTING ME THROUGH HELL NOW!!" Even though Germany's voice was loud and booming, he could hear France's footsteps coming closer to the door and Germany motioned Italy to get close behind him.

"You know what?! I'm DONE with you! I am so SICK of your problems and your issues!! You can stay here by yourself for all I care!! See how much you like this side of the war!!!"

Germany let out a frustrated and stifled yell and then slowly undid each lock one by one. He felt Italy wrap around and then squeeze his waist one last time before he opened the door.

Before he even got one foot across the threshold, Italy dashed out around Germany and smashed the lamp nearby with his elbow, destroying all source of light. He heard Italy's footsteps bound down the stone hallway like a flustered rabbit, France following close behind.

"GRAB HIM!!" France's voice echoed right behind him and he let France run a few feet, knowing Italy was much faster at retreating, and then caught up with him in the dark by following the sound of his boots. He clamped a hand over France's mouth and wrapped his other arm around his waist firmly. He felt France thrashing around as he dragged France back to the room where he and Italy had stood moments ago.

Germany heard France's muffled screaming and yelling but pretended that he didn't recognize it. "Shut up! Trying to escape is going to get you KILLED! You're just lucky I don't have a gun with me you filthy traitor!" Germany boomed a little too close to France's ear, on purpose of course. He could feel France trying to bite his hand but every time he tried to do so Germany would just jerk the man forward, causing the Frenchman to almost trip and twist an ankle.

He strained his ears and heard no noises that sounded like Italy. No retreating or distant steps. No fast breathing or gasps. Besides France's struggling and his own voice yelling, it was silent.

Germany decided that when you kiss someone you get addicted to them. You want to feel them held against you and you want to feel their heart beat against your own. You want to run your hand in their hair again and you want nothing more than to kiss them all over again.

He knew he had done the right thing but he was already missing Italy.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"I can't believe you made it out of there! How'd you manage that?!" Romano shook Italy gently by his shoulders. Italy had just burst through front door, tired and breathing hard from running such a long distance.

"Italy's back aru?!" China asked from the other room before Italy could get a word out. Italy figured that China had come over to plan Italy's recapture. Were Iraq and North Korea here as well?

"Yeah he escaped! Can you believe my idiot brother actually did it?!" Romano asked grinning after throwing his arm over his twin's shoulder, leading him into the kitchen where he was greeted by China, North Korea and Iraq.

"I'm impressed Italy. I thought one of us would have to come save you or just leave you there hoping you'd survive through the end of the war." Iraq added. So much for planning his rescue… Iraq showed that she could have cared less. Though Iraq had a certain tone to her voice… some sort of lighter air… but a dark aura surrounding her.

"Uhm…yeah I just slipped past France and Germany when they opened the door." Italy said trying to sound cheerful and proud, though the mood in the room seemed off to him. Usually his and Romano's house was open and bright and happy. Right now however it felt dark and sinister, as if something was up. "Why is everyone here…?"

Iraq motioned for Italy to have a seat at the table where a world map was spread out. Iraq's face was resting in her laced fingers and she was smiling… this wasn't a good sign at all. A closer look at the map revealed red marks and X's all over it. Arrows streamed in every direction along with different colors and various shapes. Certain countries were circled and others were completely blacked out. Italy tired not to gasp at the sight of America and Russia.

America's land was completely coated in red slashes and foreign writing he couldn't understand. Half of Russia's land was crossed out with a black pen and the other half had names written on it. Italy's stomach started to sink and immense worry grew fast in his mind.

"Iraq…? What is this…?"

"What does it look like Italy?" Iraq asked the smile still wide on her face and the tone in her voice still present.

"A-A map?"

"Not just a map, it's an invasion plan. We're giving everyone that deserves them a 'present'. For Russia we're giving him a taste of his own insane medicine and for America?" Iraq stopped to show her teeth in her smile, all of them resembling fangs to Italy.

"I'm going to invade his land and give him the same problems he gave me."

_~Authors' Notes_

_HavocCheese: Hello to all~! I would like to apologize for such a long wait...again. School has been consuming my soul and I had really bad bronchitis for the entire week so that was preventing me from thinking too clearly. Finally Germany Italy ja~? And just in time for the holidays too. I worked especially hard on this for all the fans who wrote us with kind words and praise! I appreciate every single person who reads this story and without you guys we would have never come this far. DOUBLE DIGIT CHAPTERS BABY!!!_

_RedMoonDragon:_ _Hello everybody, and yes we finally made it to the double digit chapters! I apologize for not having the last illustration up...or this one for that matter… *hides from Russia* But because of your support we finally made it to this chapter! And giving all of you your Christmas wish for Germany and Italy! I hope you're all happy and what we wish for Christmas is your reviews to lift our spirits! Merry Christmas~_


	11. Tears Behind The Mask

_~The lies on my tongue _

_The beats within my chest_

_There are no words to be sung_

_And now I feel that I may rest~_

The second the Canadian hospital came into view, America leapt from the taxi he was in, forgetting to pay, and broke into a full on sprint towards the sliding glass doors. He burst through the entryway, avoiding other patients, some in wheel chairs and crutches obviously effected by the Danish invasion, and stopped dead in his tracks at the front desk, a wild and frantic look in his eyes.

"Where is he?!" He was practically yelling and everyone in the lobby turned their eyes towards him wondering who this angry man was and why he was screaming.

The receptionist at the front desk backed away from America a bit frightened and asked worriedly," I'm sorry monsieur but… who do you mean? If you're looking for a patient I need a name…"

The American has lost his patience when he got to the Russian airport. He had lost his calmness when he was flying over Europe. He had practically lost his mind when he landed in Canada, and now his composure lay in ruins along with everything else.

"Canada!" He was still yelling, almost going crazy with the worry that was plaguing his entire body and choking up his vocal cords. The back of his mind told him to calm down and speak to the woman in a softer voice but all of his common sense was clouded with thoughts of Canada.

"I'm sorry…who is that?" The receptionist asked looking at her computer screen while trying to type in the name. America couldn't believe how stupid this person was. The anger boiled in his stomach and he talked through clenched teeth and fists.

"The country you _live in._" Really how could this woman not remember the very country she was living in right now? The air she was breathing was Canadian. The floor upon which the building stood was Canadian. The people around her America assumed were all Canadian. How could-…unless…

Canada was gone.

No…no…he couldn't be dead could he? No! Not Canada! America hadn't even found out what happened and if he had die- no he wasn't even going to think it, but what if Canada was- no he had to stop assuming. Canada was unfortunately forgotten easily but… when a country disappeared, all of its people forget its name and forgot they ever lived there… as if they had never even seen it or heard of it.

"Canada! The country! You're in it right now! You know that right?! Please tell me you know who Canada is!!" America slammed his hands down on the desk and his eyes were wide and his voice was choked. He could feel his nose and eyes start to sting. His feet and legs were growing colder and going numb while his stomach sunk and his heart beat within his chest furiously. He was starting to shake while waiting for the woman to reply, silently begging in his head for the answer he so desperately wanted to hear.

"Oh Canada! I'm sorry monsieur! I've only been here for a few weeks since I moved from France, I'm still getting used to English…"

America practically fainted with relief.

"I need his human name though. What was it again…? I can never remember it."

When he answered, America's tone was calmer and sounded a bit exhausted from the extremely heavy weight he had on his shoulders being lifted and he rested his head in his hand, his bangs leaving his forehead between his fingers.

"Matthew…Matthew Williams…" It was a comfort to America to know that the Canadian was at least _alive_. Half the worry was gone but the other half was wondering just how horribly he was hurt. America had seen Canada wounded before and he knew Canada was tough, even if he didn't appear so. America also knew that the injuries had to be serious to put the man in a hospital.

"Found him, he's in room four zero two. Just go to the second floor and when you reach the hallway turn right."

America managed to force a smile and say thank you before his anxious feet raced him towards the elevators. Seeing the crowd standing in front of the metal doors, he wasted no time and dashed up the stairs instead. The sound of his clambering feet going up the stone stairs matched the beating of his heart and his heavy breath echoed against the walls. America threw himself against the door and turned down the hallway as previously instructed.

America walked slower and quieter, aware other patients were there, but he wanted to scream Canada's name until he heard a reply. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, he came to a door that had the number four hundred and two written on it in plain black numbers. He slowly reached for the door handle, his hand trembling and his heart still racing.

Slowly and silently, America opened the door, unsure of what he was to see on the other side. He stepped in quietly and closed the door just as silent, and slowly turned his head from the white shiny floor to look at the blonde man lying in a hospital bed.

America had a fairly difficult time holding in a loud gasp.

Canada was lying atop the hospital bed, the sheets down to his knees allowing America to see how badly he was beaten up and wounded. His eyes trailed from the waist upward, saving his always sweet and adorable face for last. Canada's shirt was removed revealing the precious white skin that was covered in screaming red and pink gashes, some covered by large bandages. One of his arms was completely wrapped in bandages, one spot the white completely dyed red from blood and an IV needle sprouting from underneath the layers. His entire torso was covered in small and large bruises and many stitches accompanied the ample deep cut, one on the right side near his shoulder was concealed but dark red.

But Canada's face, the sweet, innocent, happy, and lively face that America adored, was what broke his heart the most.

The jaw line that America had always thought looked defined but cute was colored purple with a dark bruise, making it a mix of violet, red, and a fading yellow. The lips America would always describe as full, soft, and a sweet pink were cut and his bottom lip, if not for the stitches, appeared as if it would fall off. The eyes that held the blue that had always managed to captivate and wonder America, were closed were closed by black and red eyelids, some blood lining the rims.

America hated seeing him like this. He had never seen him this hurt before. Never had Canada done something like this, never had he hurt someone this bad, and never ever had he ever been so wounded and looked so…destroyed. What happened to the perfect Canada that America loved to see? What happened to the angel he had been seeing alive and well for years?

Why…did his angel look like he had taken a severely horrible fall from the heavenly clouds?

America took shaky steps towards the currently sleeping blonde but his weight proved mightier than his legs since the second he got to the side of Canada's bed he fell to his knees, collapsing beneath himself. He could hear Canada's faint breath from where he sat and it sounded strained, as if it was a painful task for him to perform an involuntary human function.

America began to tremble against the edge of Canada's bed and gently took Canada's closest hand into his, wrapping his fingers around the paler and more slender hand. The skin was chilled.

America couldn't take it anymore and pulled his eyes away from Canada, anger and sadness dominating his emotions.

"I'll kill him… I'll kill Denmark for this… consider him dead…" America knew Canada couldn't hear what he was saying but the words were flowing from his mouth and he couldn't stop them, it was water flowing from a fall.

"Why'd you do this Matty…? Why? You didn't need to invade you know… I could have done that, but why him? You know how vicious he can be and how ruthless he is… why did you do this to yourself Matty why?"

Rain started to fall gently outside but America took little to no notice to it, words still coming from his mouth and his heart starting to speak in place of his brain. Every emotion he had felt, he thought that had gone through his mind, every break, every heal, every smile, every frown, every anger filled yelling, all the reasons behind them were being told.

"If it's because I made you do so much for me I'm so sorry… I know I shouldn't have pushed you as hard and I know I was putting you in danger… why was I being so stupid? I took advantage of the fact that you're my brother and the fact that… you're the person I'm closest to in the world. I'm so sorry… I was being so selfish Matty… and you got hurt. It's my fault…"

Guilt added onto America's river of emotions and started to stab his chest like knives, the tips and blades piercing him in all sorts of places. He thought back to the past few months and thought back on what he had been making Canada do. And how many times had Canada hinted or told him flat out that it was too much…

"If you want Matty… leave this war. You don't have to stay for me or for anyone else. I'll make sure no one hurts you for leaving. Be safe please… I don't want you getting hurt anymore and seeing you in this kind of condition… I would do anything to take your place. If I could take every single wound on your body and put them on mine I would. I would do anything for you Matty… I'd even die for you…"

The rain that was falling from gray clouds, now blanketing the sky thickly, fell to the ground heavier as America placed his forehead on Canada's hand and squeezed it tighter. His voice was becoming strained now as he was forcing himself to speak through tears and a painful throat that was trying to hold back sobs.

His voice was barely an audible whisper as he finished.

"I'd do anything to keep you alive because I'm in love with you Matty."

Fingers… he felt finger slipping out from his grasping hand and softly trail along the side of his face, stroking the now tear stained skin, and gently tilt his face upward.

"I did it because I wanted to help you." Canada's blue eyes were staring into America's and his soft but forced voice was filling his ears as America was frozen where he sat. "I thought you were taking on a lot of stress when Denmark joined the war since you were yelling a lot and acting strange… at least that's the reason you gave me. I wanted to help you so I thought if Denmark was invaded by me he would either not attack us due to fear or attack me so that he wouldn't hurt you."

Canada's thumb gently went underneath the rim of America's glasses and wiped away the tears beginning to form under his right eye. "Don't cry Alfred… it's not your fault. I acted on my own."

"But Matty…I couldn't-"

"Alfred really… it's okay. I'll be fine, nothing to serious. Thankfully the bullet missed my heart so-"

America's eyes widened and without thinking his voice raised high in volume. "Who shot you?! What bullet?!"

"Alfred calm down." Canada's hand continued to stroke his facing, easing America back down to rest his chin on the edge of the bed. "Denmark shot me in my left shoulder when I wasn't paying attention. When I got here they thought that death was certain but Denmark somehow missed, maybe due to the back fire, and it missed my heart by a few centimeters."

"He shot you though! He's dead! He's worse than dead! He's dead, buried, and his precious capital is going to-"

"Alfred I invaded him. He had every right to shoot me, this is war remember? "America nodded and fell silent once again. "And as long as you're in this war I'm going to be in it too. You're not taking advantage of me now so I see no need to leave. Sure I got hurt and a little banged up but I've had worse."

America was going to argue when he remembered all the things he had just said when he had assumed Canada was sleeping. All the words and feelings he had just confided in the Canadian without even realizing it. His cheeks flamed pink as the last words he had said to Canada flashed through his mind.

"Canada…? How much did you hear…?" America was looking directly into Canada's eyes as his heart was racing furiously and his breath barely making it in and out of his lungs.

Canada stayed quiet for a minute as he kept his hand on America's face, though his fingers had stopped moving. America gently took the hand that was on his cheek into the both of his hands and slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, speaking to him softly.

"Matty… what did you hear me say?"

Canada's own heart was racing and his stomach was twisting inside of him. The pounding of his heart was hurting his ribs causing his breath to speed up. His face grew hot and red as he almost inaudibly asked America, gripping his hand as well," Are you really in love with me Alfred?"

America's heartbeat matched the Canadian's own furious and rapid rhythm as he took a deep breath and answered in the most sincere, loving, steady, and caring voice he could, wanting nothing more than the man whose hand was held in his to finally know the truth.

The truth that lay deep in America's heart. The truth America had always been too afraid to speak due to fear of rejection. The truth on how America really felt about Canada. The truth that America could no longer hide and the truth that made him feel as if wings sprouted from his back allowing them both to fly.

"I am. I love you so much Matthew… I've loved you for years. Every time I see you I want you in my arms so no one can touch you or hurt you. Every time I hear your voice a part of me always want to hear more of it but another side of me wants to silence it with kisses. Every time I'm near you Matthew… I can never get enough because I'm so madly in love with you. I know I shouldn't feel this way about you since… I know what's going on between you and Cuba and he makes you happy, but I can't help it Matty. I've felt this way about you for so long… I just never had the courage to tell you."

Tears flowed from Canada's eyes and the American's voice and words filled his senses and overtook his heart. He let himself float to the words he had been only wishing he could hear from America's mouth but never thought it could actually be a reality. But here was America, speaking to him gently and in such a smooth tone and with such kind and endearing words Canada thought it was a possibility Denmark really had killed him.

"Alfred… you don't know how happy it makes me to hear that from you…" Canada smiled softly at the blonde who was within his now groping arms' reach. His hands sought out America's frame wanting to bring it into his arms and his body wanting to be held against America.

Canada gently brought America down to him , holding the man with all the strength he had left, and closed his eyes as he softly spoke to him," I love you too Alfred… with all my heart."

America laid there on top of Canada for a moment and slowly a smile slid across his face, lighting up his cheeks and eyes. His arms wound gently around Canada's smaller frame and held him closely but soft and carefully, their owner aware of the pain in the Canadian's body.

"You…what?" Both America and Canada heard a voice that was neither of theirs and their hearts sunk as the matched the voice and its accent to a Cuban man they both knew well. "You… love him…?"

America sat up and his eyes went to Cuba who was staring at Canada sadly. Cuba was avoiding the American's stare but Canada's eyes were meeting his. Cuba felt so betrayed. Canada had told him that he loved him, _him,_ Cuba! Not that worthless good for nothing America! No! Had Canada been lying to him the entire time? Canada didn't seem like the type to mess with someone's feelings like that. That was more like the handiwork of America. But if Canada loved him and if America loved Canada then why had America been causing Canada so much pain and how could Canada love someone who had made him cry so many times?

Why couldn't Canada see that Cuba loved him so much more than America did?!

"Cuba… I-I c-can-"

"You love _him?" _ Cuba was beyond seething and furious. There were no words to describe the anger and the fury that was within him at the moment. His emotions were beyond description and his pain was beyond measure.

"Cuba really I'm so-"

"_Why_ do you love _him_?! He's the one that made you cry Canada! He's the one that caused you so much pain! I wiped away the tears that he caused and I held you when the hurt from him was too much for you to bear! I loved you in the ways that you wanted to be loved and I gave you the best I possibly could and you're telling me that you've been in love with him the entire time?!" Cuba's chest was heaving up and down with his heavy breaths caused by his shattering heart. Cuba refused to cry in front of America however, he would not let that bastard see him cry. "You told me you loved me Canada… you told me you loved _me_."

Canada knew what he had said and he was fully aware of the things he had told Cuba. Canada knew how many times he had cried to Cuba from the hurt of being ignored. He knew how many times Cuba had hugged Canada when he most needed it and couldn't get it. He knew how many times Cuba in the last few months had pulled him into his lap and held him and kissed him, making Canada promise that he wouldn't hurt himself in this war. Canada knew how much Cuba cared about him… and right now it was killing him to see him in so much pain.

"Don't yell at him when he's in this kind of condition!" America said back to him. "He can love whoever he wants to! You don't control him!"

"Easy for you to say, you're the one who he's supposedly in love with! I bet if you were the one he was leaving you'd yell too!"

"Not when he almost got shot straight through the heart! I'd let him be and go easy on him so he could heal without the stress!"

"Oh so _now _you care about hurting him! Well where was _that _compassion the past however many years you've been ignoring him?!" America stood up at this point and charged over to Cuba, anger in his eyes and his teeth clenched. Cuba reciprocated the glare and narrowed his eyes at the opposing man.

"I've had my reasons for doing things you communist pig but never once did I _enjoy_ ignoring him. I knew I was hurting him but I had my reasons and you don't know shit about them."

"Oh I'd love to hear them seeing as I'm the one whose actually been treating Canada well unlike _you_!"

"Please stop it!!!" Both America and Cuba's head shot to where Canada sat atop his bed shrieking and covering his ears while his face was a bright burning red. "Don't argue over me! Stop! Stop yelling at each other! Please… just stop it…" Canada's shoulders were heaving up and down with cries and his eyes were clenched shut, not even wanting to watch the two argue anymore.

Both fell silent, unsure who should go to Canada's side to comfort him or if the blonde man even wanted their comfort. Canada pressed the heel of his hands to his eyes, hiding his crying face and his broke over the both of them. He felt horrible… awful… the worst person alive…

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" Canada said softly trying to talk through his quiet sobs. "Don't yell at each other me… please… I'm not worth that kind of fighting…"

America frowned and stepped forward to Canada's side and gently pulled his hands away from his face. He looked into his violet blue eyes that were sparkling with tears, swiping his thumb gently over his cheek to rid of the tears.

"Of course you're worth it Matty… don't say you're not worth it. You're worth more than anything to me and I'd prove it to you any way I co-"America stopped dead sentence, falling silent but his eyes were wide and his mouth was still open, freezing in position.

"A-Alfred…? What's the-"Canada saw blood in his lap. A pool of blood soaking into the sheets and his shocked eyes flew to America whose shoulder was bleeding profusely.

"Help…me…"America managed to croak this out before collapsing in a bloody heap onto the floor.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Russia's heavy lead pipe connected with Lithuania's head once again producing a scream from the smaller man's mouth as he went flying towards a wall, using his arm to support his weight. His breathing was hard and rough but he would not give and he would not lose to Russia. He knew what had happened the first time he had lost to Russia.

The kidnapping… the control… the constant fear… the task of being a 'servant'… the pain… the imprisonment… never again would he go through that… never. Lithuania was free and independent and as soon as he had received that right when he escaped from Russia's house, Lithuania had vowed to himself that he would never be taken under Russia's control again.

Never again would he have to scream and beg for someone to stop hitting him and hurting him. Never again would he have to throw himself in the line of danger of a madman to spare his brothers. Never again would he feel the harsh sting of a leather whip against his back and feel the blood pour. Never again would he lose his voice due to the screaming and crying. Never again would he be humiliated but have no choice than other to serve someone. Never again would he lose the power of his country or his life to Russia.

Before Russia had a chance to grab Lithuania again, he pushed himself away from the wall and slid down the banister of the nearby stair case, trying to ignore the pain in his head along with the dizziness. He landed on the ground floor and looked for anything else he could use as a weapon. He had originally brought his gun with him but to his misfortune he had run out of bullets and America was the one who had been carrying the replacement magazines.

His eyes fell on a wall mount that held his original weapon of choice. A sword, long and glinting of purest and strongest metal, was resting on the wall in perfect condition. Lithuania darted to it and quickly removed it from its holster and held it in a defensive position before Russia had time to strike him again.

"Ah you still favor your swords do you~?" Russia asked smiling and tilting his head to the side, taking the form of a childishly innocent face. Lithuania said no words of response and stood his ground after finding his center.

"This should be interesting then da~? We both now have the same range when using our weapons so we're matched ah… but too bad we are not matched in skill."

"I'm just as strong as you Russia." Lithuania said, his voice not wavered by fear or nervousness and his stance steady not giving into any trembling. He was not afraid of Russia and he made a promise to himself that he would not lose.

"Are you now? Well that would explain why it took you so long for you to leave now wouldn't it?"

"You made it your mission to keep us here with you. You instilled terror in me and my brothers to insure that we wouldn't leave you. If one of us left we knew that you would guilt one of us into coming back by hurting another. We know the kind of sick things you do… we're not that ignorant."

Russia chuckled and his eyes met Lithuania's, green against violet, a smile against a determined frown.

"I can still hear your voice Lithuania. I hear it all the time. Russia why are you crying? Russia is something wrong? Russia why are you hurting yourself? Russia please put down the knife. Russia don't do this to yourself and your people. So many times you had talked me out of it Lithuania. So many times I was prepared to just end the pain but your voice always brought me back Lithuania. Why did you save me Lithuania? It would have been easier for the three of you to have let me just die."

Lithuania stepped back many times since Russia kept making steps towards him, advancing on him slowly and menacingly. A smile was plastered on his face and his pipe was in his hand, gripping it tightly and ready to swing. Lithuania kept his sword at the ready, prepared to strike.

"It would have caused more problems if I didn't save you. I would have your death and your blood on my hands. Your government would have come after me and found a way to blame me for it. I would have never become free."

"Well of course that would be your reason Lithuania. The other reason for saving someone from death would not come from you towards me. I know for a fact you don't feel that way…" Russia had stopped moving forward and was now smiling at the floor but his smile was sad… as if a shield to hide something he was feeling…

"What are you talking about…?" Lithuania asked.

"I know you don't love me Lithuania. How could you? I was so horrible to you… so horrible and cruel…"

Lithuania nodded and agreed with him. "Yes… you were…"

"Do you still have them…?" Lithuania was confused and raised an eyebrow at the Russian whose head was still hanging and looking at his feet.

"Do you still have the scars that I gave you?"

Russia had asked this question to Lithuania many times and always he would smile and lower his eye lids, showing a look of pride that he had permanently marked the Lithuanian. But when Russia brought his face up to look at Lithuania's he wasn't smiling… his eyes weren't glowing… he didn't look proud, he looked ashamed.

"Uh…yes I do… I can't get rid of them…" Lithuania turned his eyes away from Russia not wanting to see his pained expression anymore. The look Russia was giving him right now was killing him.

"You must hate me so much Lithuania… you must hate me more than anyone else does… everyone else in the world hates me too you know. Everyone is afraid and hateful and no one wants to get close to me at all. I lied to myself the entire time you were here. I lied to myself that you didn't hate me and that we were close but you too were just afraid. I wanted to believe Lithuania was a better person and not someone who _could_ hate but… I know that's not true… Lithuania hates me."

Russia suddenly charged at Lithuania and if Lithuania hadn't acted quickly, Russia's pipe would have hit him directly in the face. The loud clang of metal on metal reverberated throughout the house and Lithuania used all his strength to shove Russia away and retreat a few steps to keep his distance.

"I don't want Lithuania to hate me… I want Lithuania to love me. But Lithuania doesn't love me so that must mean Lithuania hates me with all of his being right~? So if I just get rid of Lithuania he will be unable to hate me da~?" Russia was smiling again but tears were streaming down his cheeks showing more sadness and soon to be regret.

"I'll save you Lithuania. No one will be able to hurt you after this. No one can give you any more scars or cause you any more pain. You'll never cry again and you'll never have to fight. You can finally be happy Lithuania." Russia reached inside his coat and slowly pulled out a fully loaded revolver, aiming it right at Lithuania's head. "I'll miss you so much Toris."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"I should have known that you would have let him go!!" France screamed as he pointed a long finger in Germany's emotionless face. France was coming far too close to the German for his own comfort – so close that Germany could smell the red wine on his breath – so he just stared at him as if a child getting a needless scolding from their parent.

"Really I thought you were supposed to be smart! With all the fancy machinery you build and all the so called 'geniuses' you've sprouted, I thought you'd have a bit more of a brain than this!" France was now pacing the small room they were both in with angry loud steps. Germany could practically hear the tough rubber soles hitting the hardwood floor over and over. He tried to focus on that instead of France's annoying heavily accented German.

"But how could you have been so stupid to grab me instead of him?! No, how could have you been so stupid to think he was passed out and then let him escape?! Talk about over estimating yourself! Just because the size of your bicep seems bigger to you than a car tire doesn't mean that you can knock someone out with one punch! I've heard of not knowing your own strength but that is just ridiculous!"

Germany was getting fed up with his yelling. Who did France think he was anyway? It wasn't like he was any big war hero! He had lost and made hundreds of mistakes and no one had yelled or screamed in _his_ face like this! Not to mention the number of times France had gotten into other people's business when he had absolutely no place in being there!

Annoyance had already been brewing in his belly for over an hour, the length of time that France had had been ranting, but that annoyance was very quickly turning into anger. Anger that had been consuming him, eating him, breathing him, living in him. This war had invited the brutality and the anger that Germany thought he had rid of for good back into his mind. Germany could feel the needless hate, thirst for violence, and the undying need to see fear glimmer in those French blue eyes.

Germany lowered his head and started to grin. He had been able to terrorize France once, why not remind him why and exactly _who_ he was afraid of in the first place?

Germany barely even noticed the quiet knock and opening of the door. He heard Japan's voice speaking to France quietly, the Asian nation worried he was interrupting something important.

"Excuse me, France? Korea and I will be leaving now for America." That caught Germany's attention. Why were Korea and Japan leaving and why were they going to America? Come to think of it… where was Poland… and why hadn't they heard from Denmark yet … and an even better question, where was Russia?

"Yes, yes go carry out orders. We'll keep our eyes open here." France replied to the smaller man, obviously he knew what was going on so why didn't Germany…?

"Excuse me but Japan? Why are you and Korea leaving for America?" Japan's eyes reflected Germany's own in the fact that they were full of question and misunderstanding.

"You don't know Germany? " Japan asked softly, seeing that the German was confused about the situation and angry about France.

"No I'm afraid I don't. What's our business with America?"

"Russia recently found out that Iraq was planning to invade America, so Korea and I are going to see if Iraq is, in a metaphorical term, tied up enough to the point that we can do something to her land or one of her allies while she's gone."

Why hadn't Germany heard about this? Usually he wouldn't make this big of a deal out of it but this was something he would like to know about now instead of later when Japan or Korea were injured, or worse, and Germany have to take their places.

"Well of course he wouldn't know that. He's been spending far too much time brooding and sulking around not even doing his job properly." France was speaking up again and Germany's momentarily forgotten anger came back with a fiery blaze. "If you haven't noticed he hasn't been paying a speck of attention, maybe that's why his capital was near destroyed. I swear I've been taking Russia's place around here so much it's basically turning into my side now."

Germany's eyes widened and his head snapped to the Frenchman who was now carrying on about his importance. Germany could feel himself drowning. He could see the peace had been maintaining for years slipping out of him and draining away. He could feel the flare of the flames licking the inside of his stomach, just begging to be let out.

Germany was gently shaking when he interrupted France and spoke to Japan.

"Japan…? Would you mind leaving now? I want to have a word alone with France."

Japan nodded and apologized before closing the door and leaving the building with Korea at his side. Germany strode to the window, watching the two walk out of sight and out of ear shot. He grinned when he saw them turn the corner and he knew he had France completely alone.

"Well get on with it. I don't have all day you know. Unlike you I'm actually-"

"How _dare you_… how dare you say such a lie."

France scoffed from behind Germany and leaned against a wall crossing his arms. "A lie? What are you talking about?"

"So you're in charge of Russia's side now, are you? My, my how blind you really are you good for nothing ass." France immediately heard the change in Germany's voice and he froze where he was standing. He knew that tone of voice and he thought he had heard the last of it in the 1940's.

"I've been constantly doing the work that the ex-communist PIG should be doing! He got himself into this war and when he decided he didn't want to deal with the work guess whose shoulders it got thrown on?" Germany slowly turned towards France, facing him full on from across the room, and the look in his eye made France shudder and his eyes wide.

Even though Germany was in his current green and black uniform, France could practically see the dark gray uniform he used to wear. The cap atop his head seemed so real with its metal eagle and the iron cross around his neck seemed to be staring at him. France's eyes darted to the German's left shoulder and he could have sworn he saw the red arm band with the horrible symbol he and his people had learned fear but obey.

France's breath came out in quiet but rapid gasps as the taller man took long strides towards him. Germany's eyes which were always blue scared France as they were draining their color, the irises slowing being invaded by red and the pupil taking the shape of that horrid terrible symbol…

"I've taken on everything in this war and you have got some kind of nerve to say that you're the one doing everything. You haven't done shit. The only relatively beneficial thing you did was capture Italy but how big of an asset was that? Sure he would tell us anything we wanted to hear but we already know everything that's going on. Exactly why we have the _bugs _in Iraq's house you moron."

France gulped as the German stepped even closer, the mere air of him growing terrifying. France could practically hear the screams of his people yelling for help. He could practically see the invading armies taking control of land that wasn't theirs. He could practically feel the pain of being shot over and over until he agreed. Not again…

"How dare you yell at me for making one little mistake. And need I remind you it was dark down there so I couldn't see a thing and I was wearing gloves and long sleeves so how was I supposed to feel that I grabbed the wrong person? And do not lecture me about letting people go. You've let plenty of people go… in fact you've even let the one person who was proud of her country and who basically reclaimed it from the English_ die._"

It took France a few minutes to decode what the intimidating man towering over him was even saying but then it clicked in his brain. He knew the exact woman Germany was talking about. France knew the exact sparkling brown eyes that lit up whenever she was around him. France knew the exact short dark blonde hair that bounced along her shoulders as she ran. France knew the exact woman who had been the first to successfully capture his heart.

"Joan wasn't it? Didn't she risk her life to save what you couldn't France? Didn't she practically give up her soul so that she could save you? And you watched her burn and you watched her die… some kind gratitude you have. Tell me is that how you say thank you to someone? Is that how you say 'I love you'?"

France had only felt this kind of anger a hand full of times. Only once or twice, maybe three times, had he felt this kind of hatred towards another human being. France lived by the belief that he should love everyone and treat everyone with affection but this man did not deserve the love or kindness. Someone this cruel and this sinister didn't deserve an ounce of it at all.

Germany produced hatred and served it to others so for a rare occasion France was serving it back to him.

No fear of the German was left in his bones and the horrid memories from World War Two were forgotten for now. Strength grew where the fear had been and steadiness quickly replaced the trembles. His heart now beat with a furious rhythm in place of a terror filled beat and he stood up straight, coming face to face with Germany.

"I loved Joan more than you could ever know. I loved Joan with a passion that no one in this world could ever understand. You dare think you have a place and a right to question that?" Germany was slightly surprised by France's sudden change in tone but a soft smirk caused the corner of his lip to rise.

"As I argued just a few seconds ago, you let her die didn't you?" Germany grinned widely at the shorter man showing all his teeth while his face darkened. If not in the eyes of the right person, one might have thought he was Russia, despite the transparent SS uniform lying atop his current one.

"You think I wanted to watch her die? You really think I just let them take her away from me?! Of course not! The second I saw her even at the threat of becoming captured I fought with all the strength I had to get to her! I was forced to the ground and held there by the enemy army while I watched them drag her away. I can still hear her calling my name…"

"Tell me one thing France. Did you still love Joan while you watched her being burned alive after she was hurt by _your _enemies? Did you still love her when she was hurt by the people _you_ were supposed to protect your lands and your people from? Or a better question. Do you think _she_ still loved _you_?"

France froze. The blood drained from every inch of his body and he felt cold on every possible area where he had skin. His breathing stopped in his throat and France swore that his heart stopped beating for a few moments. Through all the guilt France had endured, knowing that he couldn't have saved Joan but wishing he could have, he had never asked himself that question.

_Did Joan still love me even though I was the underlying cause of her death?_

"And if you supposedly loved this girl Joan with a 'passion no one could understand' then please explain to me why you fell in love with England."

And for that France had no answer. France possessed no way or reason to answer the other man's question on his character. Really how had he been able to fall in love after he had mourned upon the ashes of Joan's demise and sworn that he would never love anyone the same as her?

Germany's grin widened further and he turned around knowing he had just left the country in ruins. The anger started to drain from him as well, being that his thirst was partially satisfied, and made his way towards the door. Germany reached for the handle when France's shaking voice interrupted his movements.

"What would you know about loving someone?"

Germany turned and narrowed his eyes at the other European. "What?"

"What would you know about loving someone? Nothing, absolutely nothing. You don't know how to love and you don't know how love feels but every time someone offers it to you… you completely shut down and turn yourself away from it. It's because you're afraid. Somehow you think that letting yourself actually love someone is a bad thing. You think love is bad and nothing good can come out of it, don't you?"

"How do you have the right-"

"Don't think I don't know how Italy feels about you."

It was Germany's turn to freeze. His head snapped back to stare at the Frenchman dumbfounded with his blue eyes wide and his mouth slightly hanging ajar. France's face was downcast, staring at the floor beneath his feet, but his voice continued to speak.

"You have no idea do you Germany? You have no idea the number of times that Italy calls me late at night, crying his eyes out, because he says that he's scared of you ignoring him or forgetting him? Do you know how many times he's asked me what he can do so that you'll like him and the number of times he was sad because they didn't work? Your heartless Germany and I don't care if you're cold and cruel to me but Italy… he's the least deserving person to receive that sort of treatment.

"You've been so cold and so cruel to him and I can't even be there for him right now since he's on a different side. You've had this attitude that you hate everything and whenever someone has even brought up the mention of Italy you act like you hate him. I thought he was your friend Germany… I thought you were his friend."

Germany wanted to deny that what France was saying and argue that he was speaking of things he knew nothing of but when he thought of Italy crying from the fact that Germany himself had been ignoring him, all defensive thoughts ceased.

Germany thought back to really how horrible he had been to Italy and yes he had apologized to him but… he still felt as though it didn't make up for his actions in the least. Germany felt such guilt plunge into his heart and such sadness drape over his mind that his offensive position and menacing air were gone without a trace.

He owed it to Italy to do whatever he could to make him happy and that certainly wasn't what he was doing right now. Germany knew that Italy was the type to worry needlessly and he knew that Italy must have been worried about Germany these past few months, let alone the fact that he was probably scared that German y would never be his friend or his lover.

Germany owed it to Italy to do what was right and do what was best for Italy and right now… his best certainly wasn't here.

Germany once again made his way to the door, his black glove reaching for the gold handle, but France's voice interrupted him once more, questioning him and his silence.

"Where are you going…?"

Germany only turned his head partially towards France, not even enough to lock eyes but he replied in a strong voice," When Russia returns, can you tell him something for me?"

France skeptically nodded and agreed silently but still wondering what the German was doing or what was on his mind. "What is it you need me to…?"

"I surrender."

_Author's Notes:_

_Havoc: Okay so my notes this week are going to be a bit long since I have two things to discuss. The first, I would like to thank the user, Minato Kusarigi, for reviewing Broken Ties, critiquing it, and pointing out the areas of which I have been inaccurate. You're right about how I got Iraq's history off and I walked away from it with a lesson to do much more research._

_This was my first time posting this big of a project, first time writing about war as well, and this is one of the reasons I post. To experiment with my areas of strength and to see where I need improvement. Thank you again for your honest critique and I really do appreciate the criticism._

_On a second note, sorry again that these chapters are taking me so long to post. School is killing me along with other things that are completely eating away my free time. I'm getting pretty close to the end chapters and I'm working as hard as I possibly can on them! I appreciate and love every single favorite, review, and watch I get and I appreciate all of you guys' support! Thank you so much!_

_Red: Da, I'm also sorry for the chapter taking so long, but I agree with my partner here about the critique. Thank you for giving us them, we really appreciate it. I'm sorry for not doing any research when I came up with the plot about a year ago. I was still new to Hetalia, but if the two of us ever work on another story together again we will do our research. I am also sorry about the illustrations; I have not been able to get to them through school and my dad taking the computer to work all the time. Thank you to everyone for all you have done, favoriting this, watching us and commenting us. Thank you all!_

_Thank you all for reading~!_


	12. Brother?

_~In a time where there is blood_

_And in a time of no light_

_My tears are becoming a flood_

_And I have no will to fight~_

If one said that Denmark felt as if he was the sickest he had ever felt along with the strangest and the most delirious, it would have been a major and complete understatement. Denmark couldn't tell, or remember for that matter, where he was and where he had been. Had he been going somewhere as well…? What had he been doing again…? It had to do with the war… wait what war… oh the war. Who was in this war again? How many countries…? Was everyone dead? No…wait yes, wait no then he would have been dead too. Was he dead?

The more questions that ran through Denmark's head, the fiercer his stomach churned and the more the intense agony in his head grew. Denmark could have sworn he felt the world rotating but a small part of him subconsciously knew that it was just his head that was spinning. He tried to close his eyes to shield his pupils from the swirling colors and blending scenery to lessen the queasiness in his stomach. However when he closed his eyes, colors burst behind his eyelids.

Red flashes blended into blue swirls which then morphed in green stars and then all of them were mashed together in frenzy like a crowded city. Everyone walking along the street in a huge group but everyone was going in a different direction. Denmark willed them to stand still, stop moving, stop talking.

When Denmark opened his eyes again he tried to focus on his surroundings but he soon found that impossible. The world around him was even worse than the world trapped in his eyelids. Everything blurred and distorted and moving and spinning and racing and falling and tumbling and oh God… someone just make it stop…

Denmark begged. He didn't know who he was begging to or why but he begged and pleaded in nonsense terms. Words left his mouth in short and raspy fragments and few times only a stream of pained air left his mouth. His tongue tried to form the words 'help me' but it was impossible. To Denmark, it was as if he was the most drunk he could ever be.

Through his clouded and confused mind he heard footsteps and then saw a pair of boots in front of his eyes. Brown… sturdy… laced up to the top. A blue line just skimmed the top and he tried to turn his face upward to see who it was.

The person above him sighed in disgust and mumbled something. Denmark only knew this person as help and reached a shaky hand upward so that he may grab this angel's hand. It was an angel right? Surely he was dead. His mind wouldn't be this strange if he were still living.

"Help…m-"

Suddenly fingers were thrust into his mouth, scraping the back of his tongue and rubbing against his tonsils harshly. Denmark panicked and with whatever strength his muscles contained tried to push this person off but soon gags were sweeping over his abdomen.

Shamefully he felt tears streaming down his face in heavy rivers and heard choked and harsh cries escape his throat. Even though he barely felt alive he was able to feel the immense amount of humiliation that was capturing him in its claws. He didn't want to be weak towards his angel now turned attacker and tried to fight back but all he could do was cry like a child. He didn't even have the strength to bite down on these fingers…what a weakling…

A voice broke through his panic. It was calm, gentle almost, whispering things into his ears. Denmark was able to recognize it fairly easily…

"Den stop panic 'in. S' only me."

And because he recognized this voice…

"J'st let y'rself th'rw 'p. Y'll feel bett'r."

He trusted it.

"C'm on Den."

Denmark relaxed and felt his diaphragm contract strongly and soon felt himself curling forward, vomiting onto the cold ground. When had he gotten outside exactly…? He couldn't remember.

Every gag brought more burning which brought another gag which brought more burning. And the smell, ugh that horrid smell, it was making his stomach hurt worse, causing him to vomit even more. Finally after what seemed like a tortured eternity dry heaves wracked his body and soon after Denmark fell silent.

Denmark sat unmoving upon his knees, the only movements coming from him were the rising and falling of his chest. He felt less queasy, not as sick, and his head wasn't pounding or spinning anymore. The world was in place again and Denmark felt like he was planted on solid ground instead of floating. His eyesight was clearing, along with his other senses, making it possible to focus on the person who was knelt before him at the current moment.

Sweden was staring at him with his usual glare that held only the coldest blues and only the palest skin of his surrounding face. His hand was on Denmark's shoulder and the other was laid across his own knee to support his weight.

"Y' alri't?" He asked. Denmark had thought for a second that the Swede was just an illusion, but the hand on his shoulder and the voice that was speaking to him were just far too real. Sweden's voice sounded soft almost. As if he really cared that Denmark was in pain and hurting…

"Yeah… m' a bit better…" As soon as Denmark confirmed he was in improved health than he had been a few moments previous, Sweden stood up sharply and yanked Denmark's arms behind his back, biding them with what felt like the coarsest rope anyone could ever conjour up.

"What are you-"

"Spe'k only wh'n I ask y' questi'ns an' y' 'ave the answ'rs, g't it?"

So much caring, it was a stupid idea anyway.

Denmark cranked his head upward so that he may look up at his fellow Nordic and former "family member". A soft chuckle escaped his throat as his head cleared further, his thoughts finally being put together.

"Wh't? Do I amus' y'?"

Another chuckle escaped Denmark's mouth and a wide smile came onto his face. "No, but the way you're treating me is."

Sweden stood silent as if he was daring Denmark to speak more. Denmark found his confidence again as the clouds pushed out of his mind. Denmark found the way Sweden was acting absolutley hilarious. Sweden was trying to pull off the act that he could kill Denmark at any moment and if Denmark said one wrong thing he was dead. What a laugh. Sweden would never kill Denmark… given the fact that Denmark could never kill Sweden.

"You stand up there looking down on me like I'm a lower level of being than you. You stare at me like I did something wrong. Well let me tell you a secret you should already know by now Swede. No one is guilty or innocent in this war. Even those who aren't involved aren't innocent. You and me… we're just as guilty as the other."

"Th't m'y b' so but it doesn' mean I h've to let y' stan' up. You j'st almos' kill'd a country."

Denmark laughed and leaned against the tree that Sweden had him in front of. Really, he had raised Sweden to be smarter than this hadn't he? Sweden had always been the most intelligent one out of the five of them.

"Don't be that ignorant Swede. I was doing what we are all doing right now. I was protecting my land and my people. And hey, it's not like that damn Canadian was just taking a stroll through the woods or some shit like that. That snow covered waste land tried to kill me first. And besides, need I remind you of the enforcements you showed up with?"

"St'p puttin' words 'n m' mouth y' stupid Dane."

"Start speaking like I taught you to then. Don't talk about the loopholes or I'll find one. I didn't teach you to be a dumbass did I?"

Denmark knew that if he ever spoke of the days when Sweden and the rest of the Nordics were young and still living in the same house under Denmark's care, Sweden would grow furious. Those blue eyes of his would darken over and his straight lips were curve downward into a scowl and his forehead would slightly crease into a few wrinkles here and there. Denmark wanted to make sure he kept the upper hand here. He was the king of the Nordics and god damn if he let anyone else make him feel otherwise. Even if Denmark was bound and getting over the effects of being drugged, he was still strong and they both knew it.

"Sh't up De-"

"What? Does it bother you that I actually took care of you when you were younger? Does it bother you that you actually used to smile for me when you were small? Does it bother you that I taught you how to fight and use that pole and sword you are so proud of? Does it bother you that you used to say to me that you-"

"SH'T UP!!"

Suddenly, Denmark felt a cold prick of metal touch and press harshly into his forehead. He knew that lick of metal all far too well so he dared not move an inch in fear of the ever lasting consequences.

However, it was hard to keep himself from laughing. Sweden was pretending to be something he wasn't again and pretending he would do something to Denmark the Dane knew he would never even try. Denmark knew Sweden wouldn't kill him, he could pretend all he wanted but Denmark knew he wouldn't.

"Sweden...? Why do you have a gun to my head?"

"I don' w'nt t' hear the cr'p tha's comin' fr'm y'r mouth anym're."

Denmark's grin widened and he chuckled sadly and a bit morbidly. He didn't speak but he allowed himself to drown in his own thoughts.

What had happened anyway? Him and Sweden used to be so close, almost like real brothers despite the fact that they weren't blood related. Back then it didn't seem to matter. Denmark always looked out and took care of Sweden while he was still growing.

When Sweden appeared five, Denmark had taught him to fight the monster under the bed and not be afraid of it.

When Sweden appeared six, Denmark had taught him how to read and write in Danish so that he could create his own language. It seemed that his memory of the Danish language hadn't faltered since it was the tongue the Swede was using currently to communicate with him.

When Sweden looked around twelve or thirteen, Denmark had taught him how to fight and stand up for himself and his country.

Though no matter how strong the Swede got... back when he was young... he would always turn to Denmark when the littlest thing went wrong. When he scraped his knee or when the dark was too much for him or when the pressures of growing into a country was overwhelming, he would always turn to Denmark. Sweden had his own special way of doing so though. He would never come right out to Denmark and tell him he was afraid, he was far too stubborn -- another trait he had learned from the Dane -- to do so. Sweden would always just casually walk into whatever room Denmark was in and wait there for a few seconds as if he was waiting to tell him something. After a few moments of small talk and such Denmark would ask what was the matter and slowly the problem would unravel.

Denmark actually missed those days. The days of when Sweden actually needed him... the days when Sweden would cling to his coat on occasion... the days when Sweden would actually hold his hand...

Denmark closed his eyes to grab hold of all those memories and keep them close and locked in his heart like a chest. He heard Sweden's rough breathing and felt the gun trembling against his forehead.

"Sweden...? I know you don't want me to speak but I remembered something from a really long time ago."

It took a few seconds for Sweden to respond and calm his breathing, while still holding the gun steady to the Dane's head.

"Wh't is it...?"

"Remember back when we were young and-"

"Din' y' hear me tell y' I don' want t' hear-"

"Just listen for a second." Denmark's voice was calm and without intimidation or cockiness. There was calmness, a peace, almost like the very essence of nostalgia had been captured and locked into his voice. "Remember when we were both young and it was just the two of us? When I hadn't taken in Norway yet?"

"...ya' wh't abou' it?"

"Remember that game we always used to play? Where we would drag a log or stump we found lying around in the woods into the yard and pretend they were ships? What was that game called...?"

If Denmark's eyes weren't closed, he might have been able to see the faint sort of sad smile cross Sweden's lips.

"Vikin's nd' pir'tes."

Denmark's smile widened and he laughed softly under his breath, the memory vivid behind his eyelids.

"You would pick a side and I would pick a side and we would spend hours 'battling' to see who was better, Vikings or pirates. Do you remember that?"

Sweden nodded, the memory drifting into his own head as he saw himself and a younger Denmark with capes tied around their necks and earmuffs over their small ears as they threw snowballs at each other.

"Ya'... ya' I rem'mber... do y' rem'mber wh't we us'd for canon b'lls?"

A louder laughed escaped Denmark's lips this time as he too saw himself and Sweden hurling packed up snow at each other.

"Snow balls right?"

"Ya'... I rem'mber one tim' I hit yer eye on acciden'..."

"Didn't I start crying?"

"Ya... at firs' I though' y' wer' fakin' t' g't the upp'r han' but th'n y' look'd at me 'nd I saw the tears. I 'ad n'vr se'n y' cry b'for..."

Denmark remembered back to that day as if that event had happened the previous day. Denmark felt the sting of the snow in his eye. The agonizing ache of the ice that had hit the surrounding skin. The hot tears that streamed down his face.

Denmark hadn't cried because of the pain, he was a tougher kid than that – hell he was almost an adult at the time-- , but he remembered he cried because a part of him... was afraid...

When that snow ball hit his eye, Denmark had felt the strength and potential anger behind it. A part of him knew that Sweden, if he really tried, could leave at any time he wanted to. That's why the tears had started to fall...

He even remembered what Sweden had said to him that day...

"Den? Den ar' y' ok?"

"No! You just nailed me right in my eye!"

"M' s'rry. I didn' mean t'..."

"... I know... but still..."

"C'n I do anythin'...?"

In that second of childhood weakness, Denmark had pulled Sweden into his arms and hugged him close, the fear of the Sweden leaving becoming more and more of a panic.

"Don't leave..."

"M' not gonna' leave..."

Denmark didn't know that his memory and reality were starting to mix... and that the words he was speaking in his memory were now audible to the full grown nation still standing over him.

"Promise me you won't leave...?"

Sweden raised an eyebrow towards the man at his feet. He looked down at the pale blonde hair and even paler white skin, wondering what Denmark was talking about.

"Why w'ld I leave y' here...?"

Denmark spoke the words he hadn't said to Sweden in years. The words that he had always felt for the nation when he was younger. He had felt it in a brotherly way back then but all the sleepless and painful nights alone, all the nights where his only comfort was the four walls of his bedroom, when the only noises were the wind outside and creak of the house, and when the only presence was that of where the Nordics used to live, Denmark realized, love never goes away...

"I love you Berwald..."

Denmark heard just the click of a gun.

"I th'nk I l'kd it b'tt'r wh'n y' wer' drugg'd..."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

One could want to forget how cold the sting of a blade felt once it cut through skin. One's mind would definitely want to forget the icy chill of steel, slicing clean through their own soft pink flesh. That is, if this individual wasn't hardened.

On the contrary to most people's mind, Japan had stiffened his heart to become so familiar with this pain and this feeling, it was almost like his body was expecting it every time he went into a fight. Even if his opponent was wielding a gun or a weapon of the sorts, his mind, his heart, and his body would always expect the freezing and bone chilling sting of a long blade.

Though it may not have seemed like a big deal to some, to Japan it was a problem. It constantly threw him off his defense patterns and always messed with his mind when he was on supposed to be in an offensive position. Whenever he was training with Germany, he would always dodge Germany's fist like a sword and strike him as if a katana was being held in his hand.

True, it didn't make a huge difference, but it did affect him. The first few times Italy had tried to hug Japan, he had immediately stepped away and reached for his belt, expecting the blade to protect him. But why had he done so? Italy was his friend, his comrade, his ally. Why would he need to protect himself?

Why did he need to protect himself from someone he loved?

This question was flashing before his eyes as China charged at him, duel Chinese swords being wielded in his hands. Japan's brown eyes flashed against China's almond orbs as their faces were now inches apart, glaring at each other with clenched teeth. Their blades had collided with a sharp clang and were now trembling with pressure, unsure of which Asian man they were to be directed at.

Both men jumped backward, gainging distance from the other and relief on their arms. They landed on their feet softly, heels slightly sinking in the fresh mud of the late winter. However quick and precise their defense had been, their attacks were even more deadly accurate. Both China and Japan knew one man was walking away from here and one man only.

"You've improved once again Japan." China said stiffyly as he assumed his position the few feet away from Japan, ready to attack if needed.

"I never stopped learning. I have always been disciplining myself and teaching myself the value of-"

"I don't care to hear it Japan. I know and I believe, as does everyone else in the world, how hard you work. I certainly don't need to be informed of you accomplishments."

Japan smirked towards the man and held out his katana at the ready, waiting for the Chinese man to strike or make a move. However much he wanted to kill right now, this conversation seemed to be taking an interesting spin. He decided to let it continue.

"Is this because you know I have accomplished more than you?"

"Do not forget who raised you Japan. Remember where that respect for others is rooted. I planted it there. I found you wandering in the trees, I raised you, and I gave you those values. You can deny it all you want but you are still my brother."

"Feh. I am no longer your 'baby brother' nor do you have permission to treat me as such."

"Don't you think it would be a smarter decision to treat me as a brother in this position Japan? I mean, I am just trying to protect Iraq's land for her while she is gone and here you are trying to invade. Out of all the so called 'accomplishments' you've made and all the things you've learned, I would have thought you'd learn how to manipulate."

"You're too far predictable and transparent for my tastes China. All you want is to be treated like 'older bother' again, I'm right I know I am." Japan resisted the urge to grin at the scowl on China's face. He knew how much the other man adored being referred to as an older brother. China wanted the dignity and the pride that came with the title. Japan was almost positive that China could care less about him as a "little brother".

"I don't remember you being so disrespectful to me or anyone else." China glared back in Japan's eyes, the fog and slight sprinkling of rain disrupting their sight and senses.

"I only speak my mind around you. I speak only what I think to you. I don't walk on eggshells around you China." Japan also knew how much China adored the respect and the high air he held up. China probably loved it when his people used to bow to emperors. China probably wanted people to bow to him as well…

"Then… it seems you must trust me a bit then yes?" China slowly lowered his swords to his sides, letting them rest in a non-offensive position or manner. He started taking steps forward towards Japan, his eyes soft and understanding. "If you only speak so around me… you must not be afraid of the judgment I could aim at you. You must not be afraid of the way I would view you. You must not be afraid of me. Am I right?"

China stepped forward softly as Japan scowled. He would never admit it to anyone but China had just read his mind. How had the man been so gifted at reading not people's minds but their hearts? How had become knowledgeable of how to dive deep into the roots of Japan's heart and find what he had been trying so hard to hide?

"I do not fear you because there is absolutely nothing for me to fear in you." Japan scoffed and looked away from the man, avoiding the man's almond eyes. He didn't want to see them nor did he want them looking at him. The gaze was too intense and the mood of them were too clear to miss.

"That's not true… you don't fear me because you know how much I used to care for you. You know so much about me and what I am. You probably know that better than anyone. You don't fear me because you know I still care for you… Kiku."

Japan's eyes shot open wide at the mention of his human name even being uttered from China. How many times he had heard his name, Japan had no clue, from Germany and Italy and his other close friends, but it had been years – decades – since China had last said it.

And care? China didn't care about him! No! China hated him so Japan hated China! It was as simple as that, nothing more to be said! China just wanted the dignity…and the honor…and…

The love.

A part of Japan was disgusted and considered taking his heart out then and there.

But a piece of Japan's heart swelled with the love and adoration he had held towards the man so many, many years previous when he was a small child. So small that he could fit in China's arms and be cradled and rocked to sleep. So small, he held no shame in clinging to his shoulder and crying when he was upset or hurt. So small he had no idea what hate was and no idea that he would ever want to feel it towards China…

"D-Don't call me that…"

"Why? It is your name. "Japan now noticed that China stood only a few steps away from him. China was in a position where if Japan pulled out his sword, he doubted China would be able to defend himself in such a quick. Japan was in a position where he had the upper hand and he had no doubt in his mind that China knew this as well.

"It is dishonorable… and besides… I hate you."

At first China's eyes were blank, as if he were expecting these words to come out of Japan's mouth, as if he had known Japan felt this way. But suddenly, China's eyes dropped. His mouth turned downward in curve. His eyebrows furrowed in a slant. China's swords dropped into the mud, intentionally or without purpose Japan was not sure, and he stood limp. Japan could almost hear the man's heart shattering.

China's voice was quiet as he spoke to him. "This war is dishonorable and yet we still partake in it do we not? We take part in many things that are dishonorable and in fact evil. Look around you Japan. Half the things in this world are dishonorable. Anger, fury, revenge, hate, envy, all of it can bring dishonor. It can bring your downfall and your greatest fears come to life, yet we still feel these things. Look at the world Kiku. Look at yourself."

Japan's heart was heavy as was his breathing. The air leaving his nose was shaky, accompanied by his trembling hands. He felt panicked – trapped – like he had been living a lie. Every word China had just spoken to him rang true and hammered through his head. All the lies Japan had been telling himself shattered just from a few words.

The biggest lie being he hated China and nothing he said mattered.

As much as he hated to admit, China still impacted him. China taught him when he was a boy, helped him, raised him! How could ignore him? How could not be affected by these words? How could he believe he hated the man?

And then the guilt hit him right in the chest. His stomach sank deep within him and he felt knives going through him everywhere. Had he really needed to tell China he hated him? Did he really need to hit that low? If hated anyone in this world… he hated what he himself had become.

Closed off to feelings. Closed off to warmth. Closed off to any certain emotion that could make him happy but could still make him feel pain.

"Please Kiku… don't close your heart or your mind to the good. Don't end up hating those who loved you from the start…" China's voice trailed as he eyes ventured to the Korean twins who lay a few feet from them.

Im Yong Soo lay across from the north, gun still in hand, tears and blood caked on his cheeks, barely awake and breathing. Im Hyung lay in almost the same position. Those two had been at it for hours. Screaming curses back forth, hitting, punching, kicking, grabbing, tearing, screaming. It was an endless bout of anger. When they had caught sight of each other the blows began immidiately.

From the looks of the two, they had a few bullet wounds in their shoulders and legs. Blood was seeping through their clothes and staining some of the surrounding dirt red. Both were breathing fast and light trying to stay awake and concious. A few words could be heard if it were dead silent.

"You…didn't...win you know…" South Korea barely gasped out. Across from him his older twin stared back at him with emotionless blank eyes, the same as always. He could tell the North was refusing to let his body go limp, a sign that he was still strong. South Korea glared back. "I'm…not a baby…so I… can fight as hard as you…"

North Korea raised his arm that held his gun and appeared as if he was aiming for South Korea's heart. China started to sprint for his hand as South Korea closed his eyes, ready to die.

There was no bang. There was no scream. There was no sounds of a body going limp.

There was only the sight of North Korea with an empty hand and his gun which now lay feet away from him. Even in near unconciousness, his arm proved strong enough to throw away arms.

Finally, the elder spoke.

"I don't…want to fight…anymore. I…just want my…baby brother to…come _home."_

North Korea let his arm drop back down to the ground and stretched out his hand towards South Korea, his palm and fingers wide open and finally South Korea saw something he had not seen from his twin in years.

Sadness and regret.

It had been years since South Korea had seen the slightest trace of an emotion in his brothers eyes but the feelings he saw portrayed in the dark brown were so apparent and so clear, South Korea couldn't miss them even if he tried. The intensity of the pain and the amount of guilt in his brother's eyes were just far too much,

He too threw his gun away.

South Korea stretched out his own arm and clutched the elder's hand, feeling the warmth against his palm from so many years ago. Their hands still fit together perfectly as they had from the time when they were children. They both fell quietly in unconciousness while smiling gently at each other.

This sight was not only heart wrenching for China, the two had been inseperable when they were just children – back then they hated being seperated, now they hated being togheter -- , but it also lit a hope in China's heart. A hope that even throught he bloodiest of wars, love could shine through. Both his and Japan's eyes turned up at the sky at a patch of clouds clearing to reveal a bright blue sky.

Japan was the first to speak as he gently took China's fingertips in his.

"Things will get better."

_Authors' Notes:_

_Denmark: Well hey there! Havoc has decided to hide from the public view so she does not get pummeled with hard and sharp objects! Though she has told me tell alll you guys she's really sorry for taking so long to post. She was sick, yet again, and had five million projects for the devil that is school, I always hated that place. Though she does love all her readiers and reviewers and appreciates you all for reading this story for a FULL YEAR! I say we throw a party that includes beer ja?!_

_France: Non~ Wine is what is needed for a special occasion. RedMoonDragon also wishes her apologies to the public as she is currently taking care of Havoc. She says she appreciates all the views this story is receiving and wants to wish everyone a happy anniversary... now can someone pull this gun off my back? *looks behind to see Red there with gun in tow* She forced me to do this._

_Denmark: Y'know I would love to but uh...I gotta go check in on Norge and see what Finny is up to sooo... -Dashes off-_

_France: Help?_

_Thank you all for reading and we'll see you in the next chapter~!_

_And one more thing! Havoc is now a beta reader! She's an aspiring writer so being a beta is good practice for her! Email for more details or with a story you would like her to beta!_


	13. Breaking Point

_I can hear the anger in your voice_

_And I can see the pain in your eyes_

_When this is over, we shall rejoice_

_And bring up a demise_

Out of all the times Iraq had been upset and out of the numerous occasions she had become frantic with worry – pacing back and forth across whichever room she happened to be occupying – and all the sweat that had adorned her brow, this instance had to be the worst. This wasn't bad nor was it horrible nor was it terrifying.

This was on a whole different caliber. This was gruesome, this was horrifying, this was traumatizing and horrifying – wait she had already thought that – this was indescribable and stiffening and-

"SHUT UP!" Iraq screamed at the top of her lungs as she fell to her knees, the limbs hitting the carpet of her office as though the floor was composed of cement. The small room shook a bit, pictures swaying and smacking against the walls.

Iraq remained still, deathly still, so still to the point in which all her muscles may have well been made up of stone. The only movements that the woman made were minute trembles and shivers as she held the sides of her head, ears covered tightly.

This was the most terrified Iraq had ever been in her entire life… and it had barely anything to do with the war.

The only person who dare be around the woman in her current state was South Italy, who was standing across from her, only being able to watch her fear clutch her and the sheer panic within her, choke out any breath she had.

If only he knew the reason…

South Italy dared not to attempt to speak to Iraq, fearing setting her off once again. So instead, he went over a list of possible things in his mind silently. No one had attacked recently nor had any threats been made. It was true that bombs had been dropped on the coast of America, however Iraq had not commanded for those. Most likely they were a result of her peoples' fears. Germany had made no signs of taking any sort of counter attack. China was still giving her his full support.

However much South Italy dreaded the idea, he had no choice but to softly call out to the distressed mess of a woman in front of him.

"Aasera… wh-why are telling _me_ to shut up? I-I didn't say any-"

"SHUT UP! WHEN YOU SPEAK THEY SPEAK TOO!" Wide brown orbs dug holes into South Italy's skull. Gripped with terror and a desperate unknown worry, Iraq's eyes silently dared South Italy to say another word to see what his fate would be.

However silent South Italy wanted to stay and how much he would have loved to pretend nothing was wrong, he forced himself to question further.

"A-Aasera who are… 'they'?"

Suddenly Iraq was off the floor and putting South Italy's head in a tight grip with her arm. She loudly shushed him and clamped a strong hand over his mouth. Almost inaudible and incredibly shaky, Iraq spoke near the Italian's ear, "C-Can't you hear them…? C-Can't you h-hear them sh-shouting and th-threatening us…? Y-You have to b-be deaf L-Lovino i-if you can't hear them…"

Through the spaces of Iraq's fingers, South Italy spoke just as softly.

"Can't hear who…?"

"_The god damned voices!_ " These words were hissed into South Italy's ear shell and nails were then dug into his cheek, her grip tightening. "I told you already! E-Every time you speak th-they speak too! Th-They tell me if I don't k-keep you quiet y-you'll be killed a-and I will be alone again… p-please L-Lovino just... just shut up."

The Italian could only feel deep sympathy for the woman and he simply nodded. He was not in the least ignorant to the fact that Iraq had lived one of the hardest and most painful lives he had ever heard of, so he was not clueless that a person of that caliber was most likely carrying some pretty serious battle scars… even on the inside as well as the out…

South Italy only nodded, giving Iraq the comfort that her friend would remain in this room with her until she calmed down. Somehow though, Iraq's path to calmness and serenity was a long one, filled with thorns and bushes, not to mention the rest of her imagination's wild visions.

_He's being quiet now~ That's good… he doesn't yell as much as you do… even the most angry man on earth is able to maintain his temper better than you…_

Iraq once again froze as the sickly sweet chorus of voices filled her mind's ears and brought to her a chanting of what sounded as demons.

_Whatever is the matter Aasera~? Why are you frozen as if you are a block of ice? Could it be the fact that your heart has frozen into a chilled cube? Or maybe because you have no soul left to warm you…_

Before Iraq could stop – or even realize what she was doing – she responded out loud to the maniacal crowd, lulling in her head. "I-I do have a soul! A-And a heart! I have one!"

_Do you really~? Then answer us this alright? If you have a soul then why are you so cruel to those around you~? If you have a heart then why is your husband not here~? Why is Huda still in Iran and why has he refused to come and see you? Why does he still hate-_

"I have a heart! I DO!" Iraq could feel her own heart becoming pierced with hot needles at even the mention of her husband's name. Her husband… yes th-they were still married! H-He wasn't gone for good… no… no he was still in love… r-right? H-Huda was a country t-too and with the war going on…

Oh God…war…no more wars… no more wars…

"I-I promised h-him no more fighting… h-he doesn't like fighting…"

_Huda hates fighting, oh how he LOATHES it! His reputation as the country of Iran really does not suit him. I suppose people unfairly assume he is exactly like you… too bad… maybe he has such a hard time of things BECAUSE of you Aasera! _

"B-But I love him… I still love him…"

_If you love him so dearly Aasera why did you break your only promise to him? Do you remember what happened the day he LEFT YOU? Hmm~? Do you remember the exact words he said to you?_

"Not a day goes by when I don't remember…" Iraq closed her eyes slowly and let her head hang. Behind her darkened eyelids, a movie of truth played in front of her, replaying a scene which the woman had seen every night for many years past…

"_Huda please don't leave! Please I need you! Don't leave me… don't leave, I love you…please."_

_The dark haired man paused at the gaping front door he was standing in front of, his suitcases in tow, as he turned his head around to look at the distraught woman chasing after him. Before he could react, thin but strong arms were wrapped around him, his wife clinging to him with tear soaked eyes._

"_Aasera, let go."_

_The Iraqi shook her head violently and clung to the nation tighter, not planning to release him until he shut the door and promised he would stay._

"_I don't want you to go, please! We've fought our leaders this long to stay together – even when they told us we couldn't be together – you… you can't leave me please!"_

"_That's exactly why I'm leaving. I'm tired of fighting, I'm sick of bloodshed, and if I never hear of or see another war, I will die a happy man. I'm so fed up with seeing you have to fight Aasera… it's painful not only for me to watch but… the ones who hurt you are trying to hurt me as well."_

_Brown eyes were now staring up at him, full of hurt and anguish, looking as though there was a deep rooted wish for everything to just stop in time and freeze. A desperate plea for peace…_

"_I-I'm trying… I'm trying so hard… I'm trying for you Huda…"_

"…_My decision is firm Aasera…" Slowly the nation cupped the woman's face and gently kissed a tear rolling down her face. He could feel her shaking underneath his touch so he too wrapped arms around her smaller frame to steady her. "…I'll come back."_

"_When…?"_

"_When all the fighting stops. When you don't get into fights. When you have found peace within yourself. I know there's not much you can do… but please try… for me."_

"_I promise… I promise…"_

I promise…

Slowly her memory recessed back into her mind and her senses returned to the present. However the breaking of her heart and the ache in her stomach was far too real… and the sting in the sides of her eyes – threatening tears – were almost too difficult to fight.

"I promised him I wouldn't get into any more wars…"

_And look where you are now Aasera… look at yourself. Yelling like a lunatic at everyone, losing your grip on reality, and scared out of your wits. You could have prevented this somehow, you're still smart aren't you~? Though no amount of intelligence is going to bring him back… he hates you now Aasera. He's never coming back._

Iraq was a strong woman. She knew how to how to fight, both physically and mentally. She knew how to stay strong through the hardest of situations. She knew how to keep a level head when it was needed. She was knowledgeable on how to defend herself and others. She was a master of hiding her heart away.

However… the thought of this war being over… and Iran not returning to her side… brought such a sadness she could not help but fall to her knees and weep helplessly as South Italy wrapped his arms around her shoulders, silently praying for all the pain In the world to end.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"I'm actually quite glad you stopped by Ludwig, I have been meaning to speak with you for quite a while." Russia walked away from the seat Germany was currently occupying to quietly close the door to the room. Even if no one else was currently residing within the house, Russia still apparently appreciated a good deal of privacy.

"Why close the door…? We _are_ the only ones in the house…aren't we?" Germany asked while looking over his shoulder, his gaze meeting a frosted window pane.

"Da we are, I suppose I became used to the act of always closing the door when the rest of my 'family' lived here with me~." Russia took his place at the small table across from Germany, resting his chin in his hands. "With so many people living in one house you had to close doors unless you wanted every other person in the house to hear it~."

"You're referring to… the Soviet days I presume."

"Da, da, my apologies for any confusion. To be quite honest with you Ludwig I look back on those days fondly. It was so nice and warm in here~. So full of life… we were like a big happy family…"

However happy the Russian's voice was attempting to sound, the man across from him could see the sadness in his eyes, the anguish from his heart practically pouring from his violet usually vibrant color, constantly beaming with some kind of emotion, were notably paler these days. There seemed to be no spark and if one looked close enough... no life. Just an empty cold.

Not only was Russia in pain but at the mention of the Soviet, Germany too felt quite a bit of agony. The entire Soviet had lasted longer than the days of his most intense worries but… the final days of his older brother's life… had been spent in this very house… in absolute misery and torment

Germany hadn't needed any word from his brother to know that the Russian was anything but gentle and sweet to him. He was smart enough to know that Russia would spare him absolutely no mercy and try to break him down as much as he could. Germany every night would fall asleep practically hearing Prussia's screams and cries.

He knew how strong his older brother was – Prussia had pretty much raised him – and he knew… it took a lot to make him scream, to make him beg, and to make him plead for a beating to stop.

Germany couldn't help but grow sad at the tender thoughts of his brother…

"Ah Ludwig you look upset? Is something wrong?"

"Nein… nein. Nothing is wrong… I'm just thinking. That is all."

"Thinking hmm~? Well inform Ludwig me, I'm interested in your thoughts. You're a complicated man so a lot must run through that mind of yours."

Germany nodded but he knew far better than truly reveal these sort of things to this sort of man. For instance if Germany mentioned that he was simply remember his brother fondly, Russia would somehow interpret it as an insult, twisting the German's words to make it sound as though Germany hated Russia.

If Germany mentioned that Italy was too on his mind, Russia would hear it as Germany betraying Russia's trust and sneaking behind his back, which in actuality was true. Not only that but Germany had freed their only important prisoner and was now-

Ah yes… the reason he came here… that's right. Germany wanted to simply tell Russia this information and leave but he knew it was not exactly that simple. To tell Russia something of this size, he needed to put him in a good mood first… entertain him somehow.

He started off by answering the nation's question.

"I was just thinking of the spring time… it's not too far off ja?"

The man nodded and smiled. "You're right, that means spring showers will be with us soon. All the snow here will melt and then I can start planting my sunflowers again. What will you be doing?"

"What I always do on the first day of spring."

Russia tilted his head, violet eyes aglow with curiosity. "And what would that be Ludwig? You can't just give me an answer like that and leave me to guess."

"If you had to guess though… what would you suppose I would be doing?"

Russia tapped his chin in a childish way, lost in some sort of thought, as he stated ordinary things one might do on the first day of spring, ruling out options that did not sound as though it would fit the German's gruff nature.

"Well I don't figure you would be much of a man to plant flowers – considering I have never seen any flowers surrounding or in your home – so that's out… it's too early in the year to visit the coastline and go swimming... you are not exactly the type to just laze around on a such a beautiful day however…"

Germany nodded and was about to speak when suddenly Russia cut him off from even breathing.

"With all that ruled out, I suppose you would buy a bouquet of cornflowers, tie them up in a dark blue bow, and visit your brother's grave. Upon doing so you will spend the first half hour praying for him and the rest of the day talking to the engraved stone as if he is really there, da?"

Germany froze and his air became lodged within his throat. He couldn't breathe and he couldn't speak but the only thoughts he was registering were how sinister and how conniving the grin on Russia's face was. For a moment, he swore he felt his heart freeze within his chest, threatening to break and kill the very life it belonged to.

February 25, 1947… the first day of spring… the Dissolution of Prussia… the two shared the same day.

The minute Germany received the news… he did not cry. He shed no tears. He stood from the table and strode to the back yard where years previous Prussia had planted cornflowers.

"They're our national flower so we ought to have em' out back ja?" had been the albino's argument. Ever since the war had started… Germany had been tending to them every day. In his brother's absence he had watered them, changed soil, and done everything he had to keep them alive, only so that Prussia may have his favorite flower greeting him.

Germany cut many of them from their stems and tied them in a bow. He placed them at the spot where his brother's tombstone would rest and prayed silently. Germany's eyes wanted to tear up and his heart craved the release of crying but Germany kept fighting.

"_Hey bruderlein… don't cry alright? I mean hey it could be worse right? Don't cry… don't cry. I gave myself to that crazed psycho for a reason and that reason was so I wouldn't see any tears on your face. I'm not worth the tears Luddie… keep your chin up… remember me."_

And every year on the same day and the same time Germany would do the same thing with the same flowers and still he would not cry.

He had never spoken a word of this ritual to anyone though… not a soul. So how did Russia even guess this? How was Russia able to see straight into Germany's mind and extract his most precious of secrets without Germany even giving any hints?

"It's not that hard to guess," Russia continued, answering Germany's silent question. "You two were fairly close and don't pretend I don't know you replaced your own iron cross with your brother's. That's his you're wearing right now and you _have_ been wearing since the fifty's. The cornflower is your national flower as I know and also it was your brother's favorite. Why would you pick any other flower to lie at his final place of rest? Roses are for love, lilies don't suit him, and daises are for wimps. Am I correct?"

Germany could only shakily nod.

"What kinds of things do you 'tell him about' when you go to 'see him'? I suppose he would hate to hear about the weather and political affairs. Gilbert was the kind of guy to want to hear about how you are doing as a person. How you're feeling, if you're taking care of yourself, what you've been up to, et cetera et cetera da?"

Germany's heart was clenching so tightly and was in such an incredible knot he could not control his shaking gasps and the clenching of his fists. Russia was staring at him, grinning at him, LAUGHING at him and his brother! How dare he… how dare he…

Russia was chuckling uncontrollably – what set him off Germany hadn't the faintest clue – but soon enough Russia was directly in front of Germany's face. His hot breath was cascading down his neck and a strong hand was near his face, ready to strangle or slap him, the German didn't know.

"Your _bruderlein_ was the only one you could honestly talk to da? Wasn't he_ Luddie_? He was the only one you would sit with for hours and be _honest _with da? The only person you could _trust_. That must be why you love to talk to him so much even after he is _DEAD._ Well if you want to talk to him so much, talk to him, NOW."

Suddenly Germany felt something light being dropped into his lap. A soft flap sounded as it hit his thighs. His blue eyes darted down to see… envelopes. Right in the middle of them where the seal was it was white, the surrounding however was fading into yellow. His gloved hands were careful as he lifted them and upon closer inspection he could see the seals were already broken, already opened.

When his fingers flicked to see the address on the back of the envelope, his entire body turned to ice. It was Prussia's handwriting… it was Germany's address… the year was written as 1946… and… Russia… had read them… and kept them…

Frantically Germany poured over them, unable to hide his anger and his desperate need to see the words Prussia had written for him while trapped in this horrible man's house.

"_Dear Luddie, Anybody else on earth know I still call you that? Haha for your sake I hope not! I guess-"_

_ "How are my cornflowers doing? YOU HAD BETTER BE TAKING GOOD CARE OF THEM!"_

_ "I couldn't tell anyone else this bruderlein but… I'm scared. I'm only letting you know this because I trust you…and only you." _

_"Why haven't you been writing me back Luddie? I miss you. I know we can't talk for hours in person for a while but still a word or two would be nice ja?"_

For the long minutes that Germany was scanning these letters and gripping onto the paper the only sounds were a gentle rustling of turning pages, Germany's harsh breathing, and the groan of Russia's chair.

"You… you kept these from me…" The German spoke through clenched teeth and pushed through fury to speak to the man, every muscle in his body taut and pulsing. "How DARE you keep these from me! YOU HAD NO RIGHT!"

Germany's chair went flying behind him as he shot up onto his feet, his loud and booming voice echoing throughout the room. Heavy and hot breath was forcing his chest to heave up and down harshly, his cheeks ablaze with a fiery red.

"Oh I had every right in the world _Luddie_. As soon as your precious older brother agreed to stay here, just so that you may live and be spared, he became part of my family. Do you know what it means to be a part of my family?"

"I sure as hell would never want to be a part of your sick twisted family."

"So rude… though I suppose you do receive the trait from him." Russia waved his hand, signaling away his comment. "It means that you may _never leave_. Once you join my family you will stay in my family. The minute he came to this house he wasn't your brother anymore. I had every right to do whatever I wanted to him and keep whatever I felt."

That sent the German man flying. Instantly he was in front of the Russian and gripping his coat collar, shaking him with every angry curse that was sprouting from his mouth. His blue eyes were ablaze with a passionate anger and his teeth were clenched together, a breaking point tight line.

One knew far better than to show this amount of anger and this amount of annoyance with the Russian but at the present, Germany didn't care! He didn't want to walk around on eggshells around him! He didn't want to watch his tongue in front of him! He wanted him to know the truth and the truth was-

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU WITH EVERY BIT OF MY HEART! YOU REALLY THINK YOU HAD THE RIGHT TO HURT MY BROTHER THE WAY YOU DID?"

Russia simply found this amusing and was laughing right in the German man's face. Though Germany was a few inches shorter than Russia, Germany felt as though he was six feet taller and overpowering the man beneath his grip.

"Well why didn't you stop me Ludwig? If your putrid and stupid brother was that important to you why didn't you-"

"Don't you dare call him those names! Gilbert had a heart made out of gold, something YOU wouldn't recognize! He gave himself to you because he didn't want me hurt and he made me promise not to stop him!"

"And look where he is now Ludwig! DEAD!"

"BECAUSE OF YOU! YOU KILLED HIM!"

"Do you know WHY I tried to kill him? Like I have been saying, he was part of MY family, MINE! And he was trying to leave~! Oh he wanted to go back home to see his brother! I WOULDN'T HEAR OF IT!" Firmly, by Germany's shoulders, Russia shoved the smaller man away, causing him to fall to the floor. Before Germany could get any farther than propping himself up by his elbows, Russia's feet were on either side of his hips and we was crouched down to meet his blue eyes.

"This is what happens when people try to leave **my** family." Russia's hand gripped Germany's at lightening speed and before Germany could even understand what was happening, Russia tore open his own coat, bit off Germany's glove, and slid his now bare palm underneath the fabric of his shirt. Not understanding the intentions in the least, Germany struggled and attempted to retract his hand. Russia's grip only strengthened.

Slowly the Russian raised Germany's hand from his stomach, to glide over his rib cage and then to finally rest in the middle of his broad chest. Germany found no use in struggling and let his arm go limp. However, beneath his forced touch, Germany felt bandages… overlapping ones and those applied with adhesive. He raised a questioning brow and then his eyes darted to the Russian's torso.

Russia was covered from the neck to the waist in bloody and soiled bandages. Some – where the white was completely dyed red – were extremely deep and others looked as though they had been scratches. Germany couldn't believe that someone had been able to deal this damage to the Russian, that someone had laid this amount of wounds on his skin. No one had hurt the Russian like this before. He knew that the Russian had gotten in a fight due to the fact that the wounds were too straight to be some sort of accident…

"If you try to leave my family, you end up as either your brother or dearest Toris."

"What did you do to-"

"Lithuania and America both came to my house, although America left shortly after he got here, though he left me Lithuania. Dear Toris thought he could beat me in a fight… I had allowed Toris to leave the house back then but I didn't plan on letting him off the hook that time~"

"A-And he did that to you…?"

Russia chuckled and stepped away from Germany, releasing his hand. Before Germany rose from the floor, Russia tossed him a glance over his shoulder – a grin accompanying it, almost serving as a warning to him – and said coldly," Dearest Toris is dead."

Germany at this point dare not argue with the Russian's motives, intentions, or his past actions. I-If he had killed Lithuania… he had done so and there was no changing it… but hadn't Russia… always liked the nation…? Why would he…

"Let me tell you something Ludwig. Love is a horrible thing. Simply horrible. Though most say it is by far the best feeling in the world, I find it to be the worst. It keeps you up at night. It makes you unable to eat. It causes you to feel so utterly horrible you would rather be alone, however no matter how hard you try it will not go away… so what do you do? You be rid of the source."

Germany gulped harshly and nodded, standing up from the carpet and brushing off the back of his pants. He knew Russia was trying to scare him, frighten him into a corner, but right now… for the sake of Italy… he had to push past all this fear. He needed to tell Russia what was going on…

"However Ludwig doesn't need to worry about such things~. Now on with this meeting da? I actually need a favor from you but if you have anything to say beforehand feel free."

Germany gulped… and breathed. He stood tall and did not waver.

He thought of Italy's brown eyes and spoke.

"Ivan… I surrender."

Instantaneously the room grew colder. Everything stopped moving in some sort of way. The wind wasn't blowing against the window anymore and the birds were not making any noise. Nobody in the world was breathing and Germany's heart wasn't beating.

Russia was glaring at him with wide disbelieving eyes.

"What did you say Ludwig…?"

Germany did whatever he could to keep his voice steady and at a sturdy tone, no trembling or shaking allowed within his vocals.

"I said that I surrender. I am resigning from this war and I will not take part in it any longer. I offer you my apologies."

Russia made no movements. All he did was stand there with his head cocked to the side, his mouth a straight line and eyes aglow with an emotion the German could not place. Slowly he stepped towards the blonde.

"Ludwig must be a very stupid man da? Ludwig must have not heard what I was saying… once you are in my family you are to never leave unless you want to end up six feet beneath dirt."

D-Did Russia have a knife on him…? N-No he was smart enough not to kill another country meaninglessly… right? Wait… did he even contain a grip on reality at the moment… o-oh God those eyes…

"What is this about Ludwig? Are you too worn out from terrorizing my people in the forties? Or perhaps you are just worn out and the years have gotten to you? Are you too old Ludwig? Do you wish to stop aging?"

"N-Nein… I just… I am thinking only of my people and what effect this war is bringing them… that is all."

Russia glared straight into Germany's eyes, their noses almost touching. Compared to the German, the Russian felt like a solid chunk of ice, unmoving and unfeeling and deathly cold.

"There is another reason… I can tell. However important your people are to you, the Italian is controlling your decision."

"Wh-What makes you think-"

"You have made no moves to hurt or attack their country what so ever through out this war, even when they bombed your land. You have made no threats to them nor did you ever suggest anything to do with them! In honesty, it seems as though as soon as he turned you down for an alliance, you cut yourself off-"

Russia stopped himself in the middle of his own sentence and his eyes darted back and forth underneath half lidded eyes, lost in their thought, his distance between himself and the German growing only because Germany was headed for the door.

"You've fallen in love with him… haven't you?"

Germany paused with his hand on the brass knob, turned and only needing to be retracted so that he may step into the well lit hallway and out the front door. Slowly he turned his head to Russia and spoke softly.

"If you hold everyone close to you as if they are a prisoner... and not as if you love them… you are going to die alone… and everyone will leave you. They will know not to step anywhere near you and soon enough, you will be as cold as the ice that surrounds you…"

There was a soft click as Germany shut the door.

Then the sound of his boots clunking down the hallway.

The front door opening and shutting.

…

And Russia was alone.

Alone…

"…Not if I be rid of the source."

_Author's Notes_

_Hello this is the automated voice messaging system for the Havoc unit. Havoc is currently curling up in a hole ready to die because she is a lazy ass who DOES NOT UPDATE ENOUGH. She would like everyone to know she is truly sorry for this and she plans on publishing a few one shots and starting a new project in the near future. Havoc also wants to say "Baaw Prussiaaaa, whenever I talk about you I get so angsty and sad inside. My soul died a little while writing that bit. I had a few tears..." Anyway, thank you all so much for reading and for following this story so far! We're almost at the end...wait we are? OH MY GOD._

_Yes we've updated! My writer is still currently trying to get a grip, and I feel incredibly bad for Iraq. As we pull ourselves together we thank you for reviewing and favoriting our story, it's nearly completed! I have a feeling this story might be finished by the time Havoc's school starts up again, you know if Havoc actually wants to get up off her lazy ass. Don't worry I'll become a Russia for her. Thank you everybody and good night._


	14. Letalis

_~Things will change my dear_

_I swear on this life_

_Though in the depths of my fear_

_This could end as the sides of a knife_

_For the sweet is what I crave_

_And for the sadness I dread_

_Both our lives I would save_

_As long as your wings will not spread~_

Violins always held such a calming and wonderful sound. The bow gliding across the strings ever so perfectly and so lightly that it could capture the very essence of one's heart, if one allowed it to that is. If one closed their eyes and allowed themselves to be taken away by the simple yet beautiful music that a violin could create, one might find inner happiness and peace in even the of hardest times.

To some, violins might induce thoughts of small spiders creating exquisite patterns through their webs, designing a gorgeous picture of invisible thread and dew before their closed eyelids. To others perhaps the notes coming from the small instrument recreated a scene of walking hand in hand with their loved one on a beach in the late night's moonlight or the future dream of doing so.

And if the tone of the music was ever so perfect… and ever so soft… it could lull one into a soft and beautiful place of comfort and security…

Germany's head rested against Japan's sitting room wall as the sound of flawless music, played by an orchestra to which he could not place a name, sounded softly from a small radio. A gentle sigh escaped his lips as the notes swayed his mind into a more comfortable place where he was able to forget about the angry and frightening hours previous. A place where he could stay for a bit and not have to worry.

"Ludwig…? Would you care for more tea?" Japan's quiet voice eased the taller man out of his trance. The German slowly opened his blue orbs and nodded, holding out his small cup for more of the warm tea. Germany had arrived at the Japanese man's house only a few hours ago, obviously upset, to which Japan had immediately invited him. Due to the fact that he and the Japanese man were good friends, Japan fretted over him every chance he was given, even if Japan was in little to no condition to even be taking care of himself. Germany knew fully well that that was just the way Japan was with all the friends he treasured dearly. Even if Japan himself wasn't feeling up to par, he would take care of all of those around them.

Germany tried not to stare at the white linen bandages wrapped around not only Japan's arms but also the linen that encircled the top of his head. His movements looked strained and his ankles were shaking from the undesired tension of being used. Germany relieved the Asian's hands of the tea pot, which appeared to be too much of a burden for him to carry, and poured his own tea.

"Japan please sit. You look exhausted." Japan simply smiled at the taller man and shrugged off his words like they were mere and minor suggestions that had nothing to do with the matter.

"Thank you for your concern but I'm fine. These wounds are just scratches and will heal in a day or two. I am capable of taking care of my guests."

"But Japan I insist-"

"Germany, please do not worry about me. I have had far worse and these are already bandaged properly. Relax and I'll be gone for a moment to grab the food in the kitchen alright?" The German reluctantly nodded as the shorter man left the room. Japan had been smiling softly all day, and for the past few days on that note, for many reasons and the light air around him seemed to follow.

Not only was the weather pleasant – the wind blowing softly and the sun shining, leaving it so that he could leave the windows open – but he could see a change starting to take place in the world. It may have been a small switch looking at the situation from a distance but as Japan thought about the effects of the small causes, his smile widened.

Other nations were starting to realize how useless the fighting was. Some countries had completely avoided the war due to the fact that they wanted absolutely no part in the bloodshed and now others who had been participating were beginning to follow their primary examples. Of course it took death and tragedy, as did every war, to make them see this but it was true that countries were surrendering. Germany had officially left the Russian side earlier that day, this being the reason he was visiting in the first place, the Korean twins were surrendering next week, and Japan himself was pulling away from the war within the next few days.

Though it was not the fact that he was surrendering that made him smile nor was it the fact that others were turning to peace. It was not even the fact that some peace treaties and alliances were being discussed. It was the fresh memory he had in his mind.

It was the memory of him and China looking at each other after they had both been properly bandaged. It was the memory of China closing the short few feet of distance between them and smiling softly. It was the feeling of tears stinging the corners of his eyes as he looked down at the floor and the feeling of China's fingers wiping them away. It was the warmth he felt when he clung to the man for the first time in a long time, burying his face in his shoulder. It was the soft words of China telling him it was all going to be okay and the hand that was going through his hair.

It was the familiar feeling of being held as if he were child awakening from a bad dream.

It was the comfort he secretly longed for from this very same man.

It was the feeling of being accepted once again, no questions asked and no harsh words aimed at him.

But most of all… it was the smile on China's face when Japan had referred to him as his older brother once again for the first time in decades.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Italy's fingers moved about the keys on the board, entering letters onto the blank white of the document he was currently in. The tip of his tongue was protruding slightly from the corner of his mouth as his eyes were focused on each word he carefully entered onto the page. He was going painfully slow and typing at a snail's pace compared to his usual speed. If this were a document for any other purpose, most likely he would have already finished long before but in this circumstance, it required extremely careful attention.

Many a time his last finger reached over and rapidly hit the back space to delete a few words or on an even more common occasion, a whole sentence, spare the two times he flat out deleted an entire paragraph. Wording had to be precise…and decisive… kind but firm…

_Dear Iraq,_

_I am very sorry but I have to surrender. Please do not take this the wrong way. I hope everything turns out best for you in the end. I'm surrendering because I can't help you that much. I know I cause too much trouble and_

And…what? What else was there for him to say? Well, what else more was there for him to say that wouldn't completely infuriate the woman? If he told Iraq he was afraid, he would never hear the end of it. If he told her it was for personal reasons, she would demand further explanation. And God help him if he said it was because of Germany…

If she found out that Italy was in love with the enemy…

If Iraq found out that the Italian had secretly been harboring feelings for the German all along – and still carried them with him through the all the fighting – she would give him hell. What would should do if she found out that Italy had snuck off to see him on more than one occasion? How tightly would she grip his neck if someone told her that they two had kissed?

How fast would she kill him if she could see into his heart and see that he returned the feelings to the German?

As this statement entered his mind, his thoughts continued to drift. His eyes closed slowly as he leaned back in his chair with his hands resting atop the wood of the desk. He had been meaning to take a break for the past hour and now seemed like a perfect time. His mind was pulled further and further away from completely his letter and coaxed more and more into the dark of a basement…

Not just any basement but the basement where Germany had stood in front of his bound figure and proceeded to scream at him. Within the thick walls in which Italy had screamed and volleyed back at every word the German said. Every single feeling he had to the man, pushing aside his years of fear of rejection and sadness, flew from his lips.

At that moment Italy hadn't been able to hold back his words and every feeling or thought he had had for Germany came pouring out. His stomach had been flipping and his heart had been racing but if it was for Germany… he would do anything for him. If it meant putting every bit of his pride or even fear on the line… he would.

Italy's heart sure enough raced as his vivid imagination brought to him the image of Germany's face. The face he had grown used to being so harsh and cold in that moment had melted. His tight frown had loosened and his jaw went ajar. The pink in his cheeks – originally from anger—dulled back to pale and his eyes… they turned from solid blue eyes to the most liquid of blue…like the ocean.

And when Germany had cradled him around his waist and kissed him… Italy swore that he his heart had grown wings and lept from his chest. Not only that but Germany didn't release him and kept him encased in his strong and warm arms, telling to him words of comfort…

Germany wanted to be with him… Germany wanted to be his… Germany didn't hate him at all…

Everything was going to be okay…

The great promise Germany had told him. Where they would live in a house together and live there forever. No one else would know about it… that is where things would be alright and everything would turn out for the best…

It would be a small but cozy house only five minutes away from the ocean. They would be able to hear the waves crashing while they were falling asleep. The air would always be nice and cool so a nice breeze would gently blow through the open windows. Of course he would need flowers. Maybe a few rose bushes? Yes…those sounded nice. Also some daisies wouldn't be a terrible idea…

They could have a small table out back – surrounded by the very nearby woods of course – so that they could eat lunch and dinner out on hot days. Maybe Italy could even set up a painting easel? Germany had always admired his paintings – his fingers being too clumsy to draw anything, or so he claimed – so he wouldn't have any problem with that right? And Germany could bring his dogs too!

And a nice sitting room… some red wine for the occasional company. A nice fireplace perhaps…? Whatever worked… as long as he was with Germany.

Just him and Germany…finally in peace… maybe even-

Italy's eyes opened quickly as he heard a soft call for attention come from his computer, a ping sounding from the small speakers. Once again he sat up and searched for the source of the alert. Upon looking at his internet browser he saw he had an email…

And what did he know. It was from the very man he was thinking about. Softly Italy smiled and clicked on it, waiting the few seconds for the page to load. His eyes scanned quickly as he read what Germany had to say.

_Veneziano,_

_I have free time on my hands today. I assume you heard what happened with Russia and I don't doubt it's been plastered in every newspaper throughout the globe. I'm trying not to think about the debts I'm going to have to pay off and all the damage, so if you would like please stop by. I'm home right now, as I will be all day. I hope to see you soon._

_Ludwig_

His letter of surrender could wait another hour…or two…right? Before his brain could even argue he was too busy, he was responding to Germany's email saying he would be over right away and he would bring any left overs he could find. His computer shut down as he pulled on his boots and shortly thereafter ran out the door.

Nothing but a smile was on his face. Nothing but the vision of Germany was in his mind. No fear was present in his heart as was no worry. There was nothing he would think about today but Germany and Germany alone.

Just the ever present ache to be held in his arms again and to kiss him with the adoration he had always had for him.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"What exactly did Mr. Russia say to you Germany…? I can tell it's bothering you."

Germany's head popped up from his lap as his eyes fell to Japan and away once more. He shook his head, averting his eyes and attention, reaffixing his gaze on a portion of wall that held a newfound interest.

"Russia is Russia…he and I didn't exactly get along well to start with…"

"I'm fully and well aware but if I do not offend you saying this… you seemed so angry, you looked close to tears when you arrived. I've only seen you that upset maybe twice before…" Japan's eyes were soft, not urging or pressing the matter in any demanding way, but a source of comfort, reassuring the man that he had nothing to fear here.

He was safe.

That's right…Germany was safe. He was safe now… he could take a breath. He could loosen his muscles. He could rest his eyes in the midst of the afternoon. He could take a long bath if he wished. He could play with his poor neglected dogs again. He could spend time with Italy again…

What was stopping him from letting go for once…? Russia wasn't looming over him anymore. He had no obligations from the start to withdraw his feelings and was no longer bound to anyone's expectations to be inhuman. True, he did enjoy his strong sense of privacy and found it less troublesome to bother others with his feelings – most people did not really want to listen, only offer their good advice anyway – but there were some days…

Germany had locked his heart away in a place where hardly anyone could reach it and the lock to it took a sturdy key and an even more persistent hand. After Prussia died… he had let no one in. He pushed every single person away. He isolated himself and let himself fade into the background alone.

He had frozen his heart and his life into a block of ice. After Prussia was gone, who was there to carry the lineage? Only himself really… though he was the only one to take the shame after the war. The war for which he was still frowned upon though if Prussia had been there… they at least could have mourned together… at least he would have had someone to share the anguish.

At that point in time he decided he wanted no friends, he wanted no company, he only wished for solitude.

Why have friends when you know you are going to lose them? Why get close to a person when they could leave you or fate could take them away? Why bother letting anyone inside your heart when they could fairly easily shatter it? Why take the risk of letting any one person in and loving them, only to have them taken away and you never see them again?

Despite how awful being lonely was… it was safer... it was better to remain in a place of absolute silence with no laughter and no light than to listen to the kind words of a person and enjoy the warm hugs and then have that wonderful privilege taken away.

Prussia left with little to no warning so what was stopping anyone else?

Italy…what was stopping Italy? What if one day Italy decided his feelings were fickle and that he didn't want to be around him anymore? What if Italy one day just disappeared and left him? What if Italy didn't run away fast enough from an enemy…?

This terrified Germany. The thought of Italy, the one who meant the most to him, leaving him left him stricken in fear at times with a cold sweat and trembles. The thought that he wouldn't be able to see his brown eyes or receive the warm hugs anymore.

Italy would leave…

But right now, at this moment… Germany's logical and reasonable mind started to argue…

Why would Italy get bored with him? Italy was far too nice and far too sweet to abandon anyone be it a person or an everyday household pet. Why would e disappear? Italy wouldn't leave Germany… Italy wouldn't leave Germany… and this thought is the one that made him want to open his heart again.

Made him want to be able to trust again, talk, laugh! Tell Italy odd things that happened throughout the day, put his arm around his shoulder while they walked, cry into his neck, and laugh so hard his stomach would hurt… be himself.

And if he could trust Italy this well…why couldn't he trust Japan…?

After a long period of silence, Japan was ready to move away from the subject, not wanting Germany to feel strained. He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted before a word could leave his lips.

"Russia was insulting my brother… Gilbert. He was speaking of him in such a disrespectful way and I wanted to throw him down and beat him until he couldn't breathe but… it would have just turned out for the worse. You know…my temper…"

Japan simply nodded out of respect as a signal for the man to keep talking and a further sign that he was listening. He gently put his hand on the table in case his friend needed it.

"Gilbert…I mean sure he had his flaws and I'm well aware of his political issues but…he was a great kingdom and… at least to me, a really great brother… I miss him… I don't want anyone saying those things about him, especially when he's gone."

A long period of silence followed as Japan gently gripped Germany's hand and rubbed his thumb over his broad palm. "He was a great man…"

Germany nodded and more silence followed as he allowed Japan to hold his hand. It felt nice to have someone care and it felt even nicer to get his thoughts off his chest. To let someone know he was hurting…

The sharp buzz of his phone eventually sounded through the air. Germany politely excused himself and checked the screen. On the lit up display was a notification _"New Email : Veneziano"_

Germany's eyebrows raised a bit in question, wondering what the message could be about. He mentally checked that he had not sent any messages to the Italian that needed correspondence… maybe he was checking in on him? Curiously, he opened and read the short message, an even further question rising in his mind.

_Thanks for inviting me over Ludwig! I'll bring some pasta and a few cookies since I made some yesterday! I'll be at your house in about an hour or two okay? I'll see you soon!_

"If I may ask…who is it from…?"

Germany looked up at Japan, his own voice wavering in certainty. "Italy… he said he was headed to my house… but I never invited him over…" Germany's eyes read over the message again and something deep within his stomach was telling him to go home immediately.

Italy had made mistakes thousands of times – screwed up dates, people, and even the direction of his clothes a time of two – but… for some reason this felt different. It didn't feel right. Germany had not invited him to his house or to any sort of place in months. He had barely even spoken with him…and he used his human name…

Germany's entire stomach twisted into a deep and strict knot. His heart flipped. His lungs tightened and his skin flashed such an intense heat but such a deep chill the room spun for only half a second. Something was wrong… something was horribly wrong…

"Japan, I need go home."

Germany's eyes looked upon his friend and saw he had the exact same look painted on his face. He too could tell something was not right about this situation. Italy hadn't made a mistake… something was off…

"I'll go with you."

In the next few seconds, both nations left the Japan's house and were walking far faster than usual, despite both their pain, to the nearest dock. Both had horrible knots of irrational fear in their stomachs…

Both could tell something was going to happen…

And it was going to be awful.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x- - - - - x x- - - x - - x x - - x- -x- -

"You will NOT get in the way of my happiness~!"

_Whack._

"Everyone else in the world is happy, but ME! YOU get to smile but I am only allowed TEARS!"

_Slam._

"If I am always miserable, so are YOU! Even if I must FAKE this smile~!"

_Scream._

"If I have to suffer, everyone suffers! EVERYONE!"

_Cry._

"I will NEVER have to deal with being alone AGAIN!"

_Beg._

"I will strip everyone of their happiness…starting with you."

_Crunch._

_Thud._

_Silence._

"Smile for me now… see if you can~."

- - - x - - - - - xx - - -x - x –x- - - x - - - - - -

Germany couldn't peel his eyes away from his front door as he fished through his pockets for his keys. There were absolutely no signs that would give away the sense that anything was out of place. The windows were closed as he had left them. None of his dogs were barking. The door was still closed in its frame. It looked perfectly normal…

…but it felt so horrid. Germany felt his entire stomach twisting and his heart hammering so hard within his chest he swore a few times it might have actually come up his throat and he had to swallow it back down. His skin was flaming hot but freezing cold as it was earlier. His hands were clammy as he reached for his keys and shakily put them in the key hole.

The door clicked. Pushed open no problems. He was greeted by the sight of a normal living room opposite the room. Curtains closed and all light sealed outside, none coming in. Maybe… everything was alright. Maybe nothing was out of place…

Italy could have stalled and could still be on his way over to which Germany could catch him and clear up what had happened. Maybe Italy had gotten an email from an earlier date…that was likely. Everything was fine. Everything was norm-

And then there was the stench.

His eyes widened and his breath completely halted. All his muscles turned into frozen chunks of solid ice and his knees quivered. That smell… sweet and salty… pungent… and full of dread.

Gallons and gallons… of fresh blood.

His eyes flickered left and right, searching desperately for the source and soon to his horror he found there was not once place it was not splattered and running.

It coated the walls as fresh paint. It was everywhere. Running down the plaster, dripping from the ceiling, in pools on the carpet, slithering down the doorknob…oh God… wh-why was there so much… why was it still so wet…why was there so much and-

"Welcome home~" Germany's eyes which were darting every which way in an absolute panic rose and rested on the tall figure of Russia. Sitting in the corner of the room… pipe in hand and smile on his face. The red and precious liquid oozed from his hair line and along his face, coating his lips. Slowly he pulled back his lips and showed his usually white teeth stained pink…

"Wh-what…wh-where…" A finger. Pointing. Russia's gloved hand pointing at the carpet at a lump of blankets… what had he-

"L-Lu-Ludwig…" Those weren't blankets... the disfigured pile had eyes…big brown eyes, tear stained and horrified…staring straight at him…reaching out for him. Begging him to come closer…help. "S-Save me…"

Italy…

This was Italy's blood…

That was Italy on the floor…

Italy was hurt… broken… frail…

Dying.

Without thinking and without warning, Germany charged into the room letting out a sob and scream, sounding and echoing throughout the small room as he scooped the Italian into his arms. Blood poured from his body and his limbs could only sway as the taller man scooped him into his arms, his own frame becoming quickly soaked and red.

Italy was staring at him blankly, barely enough energy or life left to blink, his mouth hung open and his dark skin stained horribly with red, still wet and coating his chin and neck, all his clothes drenched.

Germany tried desperately to stop the bleeding, anywhere, anywhere. But once he covered one part on the man, another seemed to burst and ooze. In one area where the blood would clot, three more would start to gush, taking more life with it.

"V-Veneziano PLEASE hang in there! Please!" Italy's eyes blinked as they took a minute to recognize the frantic man trying to tend to him in the dark and through his straggled and torn hair.

"ITALY!" Italy smiled, ears clogged with too much of his own vital fluids to hear properly, his teeth cracked a dark marron.

"ITALY! Please! Wake up! Please!" His eyes started closing and his breathing was becoming strained. Lungs were gasping and wheezing, becoming so tired and weak. Russia was laughing…

"Italy, Veneziano! Stay with me! Don't leave, I'm begging you!" Germany couldn't help but strengthen his grip on the man lying in his arms, growing weaker and colder by the second. Italy couldn't die, no, not after all they had been through, not after all the arguments and crying and fighting…Germany had been fighting for Italy and…h-he couldn't lose him… he couldn't lose the only one he cared about.

Tears streamed down his face as his frame trembled and curled forward, trying his best to even breathe a stronger heartbeat into the Italian. Give him life, ensure that he would stay on earth, stay ALIVE.

"Germany… I'm sorry…" His voice was faint and fading… losing the ability to be even slightly audible. He could hear whimpering in the back of his throat… as if it was a chore to even stay alive.

"Veneziano don't be sorry just stay awake okay? Stay awake and I'll take you to that house we talked about okay? We can eat pasta every day and go swimming in the ocean. We don't have to think about wars or anything. We can get you a cat how does that sound? Please Veneziano please just stay awake!" Any motivation… any drive to keep Italy alive and on the earth… anything to keep him from fading away into the blackness…

Not Italy…not Italy… not Italy…

"But Ludwig… I am so tired…" His eyes drifted close. His breath only lasted for a few more moments. The rhythmic beating in his chest slowed…and slowed… stopped… his eyes opened again but they were blank…

Staring back blankly at the man…

Gone.

Italy wasn't on earth. Wasn't in his arms. Wasn't in his life. Wasn't. There was no Italy… there was no more Veneziano. There were no more smiles. There would be no more laughter. There would never again be a hug or a kiss. There was no North Italy.

And what remained of him was slowing turning to dust in a hysterical and screaming German's arms, the last remnants of his existence.

_Author's Notes_

_Havoc the Lazy Ass: I am sure everyone is ready to murder me by this in point in time for one of two reasons. Reason one, I've been EXTREMELY inactive and I haven't updated since July, I am so horrible I know and I apologize greatly! Or reason two… I just killed Italy. P-Please d-don't kill me in my sleep. I cried while writing this I really did. My "x" needs to be pounded on to work because of tears. _

_Only one more chapter to go though! I'll miss this fiction, I really will. So much hard work and so many hours were put into this and I cannot thank everyone enough for the time they took to read it. Thank you for everything. Thank you for the praise, the criticism, the words of joy and sadness, and just every word I received regarding this story. You guys warm my heart so much. Thank you._

_I'll try and get the next chapter written as soon as I can, school is just killing me right now. Oddly enough World History is eating my soul. Ironic no?_

_Red the Overworked Editor: YES! FINNALLY! ANOTHER CHAPTER HAS BEEN POSTED! Plus it's been the chapter I've been waiting to be written for a year and few months now! XD Thank you everyone who had the patience to wait for the update. Hopefully this update made you smile and or cry, thank you everyone who commented and next chapter will be our FINAL. We couldn't have done with without you!_

_Thank you all for reading~!_


	15. Epilogue

It's odd how drastically death changes people. Strange that it takes a thing as significant, yet as horrifyingly final as death to open a person's eyes, the want of a different life glowing in their pupils. It's horrible isn't it…? When a life is taken, that is when the situations surrounding start to change their forms, bending and twisting into something completely different. One would think that we would learn to value life and to stop all these horrific things before we had to lose someone.

No…we were foolish. Completely foolish and so very blind. We could not see that all this fighting and all this hatred was useless. All of this uncertainty and anger was so stupidly wasted when we could have been bettering not only ourselves but those around us. We could have used this problem as a chance to find solutions…no, we instead buried ourselves deeper and deeper into our pride until we couldn't see the light above our heads anymore.

I suppose…he was the only who could, and even if he couldn't see a light or a way through, he simply imagined it and tried to lead us all to it. Unfortunately…we noticed this far too late. We pit clawed our way back up from the soil to stand on solid land again. Only when we were so violently shaken up by the death of someone who we thought's smile would never depart from us could we look through different eyes.

Only then could we all stand back, silent and mortified, and see exactly what we had done.

The bombed areas of Berlin still needing to be rebuilt. The ravished lands of the Danes, people still nervous and shaking. The fearful people in Russia who's stomachs had gotten leaner, all money being used to fund this catastrophe. We had done all this… to our own people.

Only to turn to those who weren't in the war realize how horrible they were doing without all the fighting. The poverty that had shaken Central America. The overpopulation and insufficient housing in Asia. The mass starvation and unfair lives of all in Africa. Suffering everywhere… tears.

We had done this. To ourselves, to each other, to our own people. Turned a blind eye to everything and spun ourselves into our own selfishness, allowing those surrounding to drown without any promise or offer of comfort. We had allowed this go on in some way or another… hurt the very people we shared a common name with.

How dare we even consider ourselves human anymore…

Italy's death brought a great silence and with it a great sadness, yes, but also a wide spread epiphany. A new age of realization and a long period of mending. Almost like a rapid domino chain we all surrendered from the war. We all laid our guns to rest – silently promising to lock them away for decades possibly even centuries – and slowly starting the task we should have begun years ago.

At a slow and shaky pace, steps uneasy and faltering, we are making progress. Building projects to restore cities affected by the war are taking place, assistance coming from outside and unlikely nations. Debts are being paid off world-wide with even more unlikely assistance. Relief services are being stationed fast in every area possible, and the gaping wound that has been opened in our world is slowly starting to heal.

World peace is not with us yet but it is in the air, drifting softly becoming more and more realistic the harder we try and the more we persist. We were wrong the entire time. Peace is not given nor does it just happen.

For peace to happen, an effort must be made to put anger and pride aside while humiliation and happiness take its place regardless of whom it is for.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Canada heaved slightly as he lifted the heavy brown moving box, which was sealed tightly with tape, its mysterious contents remaining unknown. From the weight of the box his brother was either collecting rocks or storing extra lead in here. He balanced it on top of his forearms as he took cautious steps towards the car parked in the drive way in front of his house. The stretch of walkway felt like an eternity however, what _was_ America keeping in here anyway?

He let it drop into the open trunk with a thud and brushed off his palms as he walked back inside and up the stairs to find the other blonde still poking around in his dresser.

After the war had ended Canada, had insisted America stay with him for a few weeks. When asked for a reason Canada simply stated he wanted to take care of his injuries and make sure he got the proper rest needed for healing. He of course hadn't told him that he couldn't bear the thought of being alone in his house. Even if the Canadian had nothing to worry about, he was still very much on edge. He didn't want to be away from America.

"What do you think you're going to find in there, the Fountain of Youth?" Canada asked, leaning against the door frame and catching the other's attention. His action was rewarded with a small smile and a soft chuckle.

"Maybe if I look hard enough."America took a moment to run a hand through his hair, brushing his bangs away from his eyes, "I just want to make sure I didn't, you know… forget anything."

Canada nodded and strolled over to the dresser, peering into the open drawer. It looked untouched, all of his own clothes were folded and America's nowhere in sight. He crouched down and looked in other drawers, helping the other blonde, but soon enough was stopped by a hand on his arm.

"Don't worry about it Matty, I've got it." America smiled. He hoped that Canada would actually stop helping him all together. In some way he even hoped Canada would get him side tracked. Offer him lunch or to go for a walk in the close by woods. Anything to prolong his departure from the Canadian.

America's nerves were also not the most at ease. He was practically on hay wire when he was left alone. Canada was a calm man, gentle and sweet, so it was easy to be relaxed around him. The feeling of someone else in the room with him – especially someone who was so close – was a great comfort. It let him know that someone was still there. Someone still loved him.

The past few months had been solid proof of it as well. The two were practically conjoined at the hip and were completely inseparable. Canada's offer came when both he and America were well enough to leave the hospital and return home. America accepted with almost no argument. America had taken a few weeks of course to redirect all his calls to his cell phone, gather absolutely everything he needed, and set himself up in Canada's home. He was able to settle business from there and the trip back to his capital was a short one.

The house held no words and barely any sounds the first two or three weeks of his visit. If possible, both men were as dead silent as they could be. Any small bang would send Canada flying and America was for once, not partial to words. However little they said they made up for in affection. Canada must have hugged America's arm at least fifteen times a day and stayed there for long periods of time. America would also check on Canada while he was sleeping multiple times throughout the night.

They eventually just ended up sleeping in the same bed after bumping into each other numerous times in the hallway on the way to each others' rooms.

America found it odd and angering how tragedy brought out the worst of truth in people. He also found it heart breakingly sad that the first sounds he heard from the Canadian's mouth since leaving the hospital were choked sobs and hiccups. Cuba certainly picked a wonderful time to decide that he couldn't handle commitment at the time and decided that Canada wasn't even truly in love with him.

When he had learned of Canada's heart break, America had been sleeping when he had heard his brother sobbing and immediately rushed down stairs. Canada had insisted he was fine and nothing was wrong and that America should return to his bedroom, but America had coaxed it out of him eventually. They remained in the kitchen, knelt down and cradling one another tightly, for what seemed like hours. Soothing words of comfort and promises of staying were made from the American, setting the Canadian at ease.

America quickly learned though, through sadness blooms euphoria, the greatest sense of happiness ever experienced. Perhaps because one feels so low there is nothing else to feel afterwards.

The next few days transitioned quickly from sadness to suddenly a great burst of life. It started with small conversations at the breakfast table but soon erupted into loud laughing fits all throughout the day at random times. Smiles returned to lips and brightness reentered both of their blue eyes. Life was with them.

Before either of them knew it, the day America had to leave was upon them as well. It was a surprise to the both of them. They hadn't expected this to come so early on. America had sighed but soon laughed saying that time flies when you're having fun. Canada, masked with a smile, nodded.

There was a long period of silence in front of the dresser, a pile of clothes off to their right and more boxes to their left. Both sat unmoving and crossed legged on the hard wood floor, the knees of their jeans suddenly fascinating. America tried to breathe in time with Canada and sit in the same position while it appeared as though Canada was off in space in his own mind.

"…You sure you're going to be alright here by yourself Matty…?"

Canada's head bobbed up and down. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about it. Things are starting to get better already. I mean, good things are taking place right? France and England got back together so the world can't be all bad."

America laughed from his throat. "Yeah you're right about that. I thought it would take a lot more to get those two together… how do they do it…?"

"Do what?"

"Stay together? How does anyone stay together? There's so many people on this earth and there's so many things we can do wrong and mess up. We all get on each others' nerves and we're all so different… how does anyone stay together today?" He looked over to his brother, eyes scanning him for the answer.

"I'm not sure… maybe your heart just knows… I don't know."

More silence covered the two of them. America tried to think of something to say next but for once he was strained for words. Maybe instead of waiting for Canada to ask him to lunch he could ask Canada. What harm could it do? He could drive Canada to some out of the way place and treat him to lunch. Keep him out long enough to allow him to stay one more night…just one more night.

One more night…to tell Canada how he felt, America had postponed this long enough. Day after day he had promised to tell the blonde tomorrow, next week, next month. There was no tomorrow this time. Now was a better time as-

"Cuba started talking to me again… and he's being pleasant about it." America stopped in his tracks. Annoyance boiled up in his stomach and worry poured into his heart. No… no he wouldn't let this happen again. He would not let Canada be taken away from him again…

"Don't go back to him Matthew. You can do better." His eyes looked over to him, seriousness taking over the care free blue. "He hurt once, he'll do it again. Don't trust him."

"…I wasn't planning on going back to him."

"I just… I worry about you Matthew." Canada nodded. He got up from the floor and lifted another box, starting to leave the room again.

"Come on, we have more stuff to bring down."

America sighed and rose as well. He had missed his chance. He had annoyed Canada and with it lost any possibility of letting the truth come out. America heaved two boxes into his arms, clearing the pile, and headed down the stairs. He and Canada both deposited their shares of boxes into the trunk and closed it tight. America leaned against the back and shoved his hand in his jacket pockets, eyes taking to the sky.

"I'm gonna' miss this view Matty…"

"I'm going to miss you. It was nice having you here…" Canada replied softly, assuming the same position as the other man.

"I'll miss you too…" He turned his head to face the Canadian and smiled. "I promise to come visit."

Canada looked back and returned the soft smile with a chuckle, his look saying you'd better. His eyes remained focused on America and studied the cowlick drooped over his forehead. America could feel the words on the tip of his tongue, just say them, just say them, just-

But before he could even think of how to phrase them, Canada leaned forward and pressed a soft, endearing kiss to his lips, smiling and cheeks aglow in a blush. "I love you Alfred."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

She hadn't watched the sun set in such a long time. The woman had almost forgotten how calming it was to watch the beautiful fiery orange fade in with the golden yellows, swirling together with soft pinks and hints of blue to create a beautiful canvas in the sky. A soft glow rose from the horizon creating comforting warmth as it blanketed the sand, covering it like a soft blanket. The wind was gentle and the skies were clear. For the first time in a long time, Iraq felt…at peace.

Iraq was seated on the balcony perched at the back of her house in a kitchen chair, blanket wrapped around her frail shoulders, with a cup of tea cradled in between her palms. Her hair was down and out in the open, waving down to her waist. It had gotten dry in the past couple of months as had her skin. Her eyes had dark rings underneath them – due to the lack of sleep she had gotten during the war – and had a constant sting in them. Her health was slowly improving as the fighting calmed down and she was able to breathe a bit easier these days.

Iraq leaned her head back and closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of a cool evening breeze and the aroma from her tea cup. Thinking about the past war made her heart race and her head spin. She could have spent hours blaming the others around her – and sometimes did – but she herself took on a good portion of the blame too… especially Italy's death.

Every time the mention of the Italian was brought up all she could see was herself yelling at him for messing up again. Screaming at him for sneaking off to see Germany. Actually hitting him for something minor. Iraq had lost such control over her temper and felt guilty…so guilty. Maybe if she had been a bit nicer…acted more caring… reassured the young man that everything would turn out for the best…

Had he died screaming? What was going through his mind? Probably Germany… the thought of never being able to see him again. Did he think of her while he was slipping out of consciousness? Did he curse her or did he think of her fondly? No, what reason would he have had…? She spent her time screaming at him…

Iraq sighed heavily, the weight of her heart heavily increasing, as her mind began to wander farther. Iraq knew she had lost control of her temper long ago but what was stopping her from getting it back? The fighting was over; peace was spreading slowly but steadily… so why did she still feel the need to be angry? Why did she still feel like screaming at the nearest living thing?

"I'm angry at myself…" Her words were quiet and muttered, barely audible, as she lowered her head and looked at her knees. "I've done this to myself. I've made mistakes that I can't fix…"

Another sigh came from her mouth. The word "mistake" brought only one image into her mind and made her heart clench so tightly, she almost was unable to breathe.

Iran.

Where was he? The fighting had stopped; she hadn't done a malicious thing since the war ended. She was making attempts to apologize to other nations and create as much peace as she could. She was helping not only her people but the people from other nations she and others hurt. She had even tried to contact him a few times. She had stood nervously at her kitchen counter, one hand supporting her weight on the counter and the other gripping the phone next to her ear, while her stomach started to turn over as she heard the phone starting to ring.

Iran still had the same number right? He wouldn't change it right? Did she dial it correctly? What if he saw her number? What if he didn't pick up? What if he did pick up? What if…what if someone else picked up…? What if that someone else…was someone he was seeing? Please don't let him-

"Hello."

Her mind had jolted as she had fumbled over her words, trying to get her breathing back to a normal pace. "U-Uhm h-hello Huda, it's me…uhm Aasera and I was ju-"

"You've reached Huda Akbari. I'm unable to answer the phone at this time. Please leave a message and I'll return your call. Thank you."

Iraq had slammed the phone down before the answering machine even had a chance to beep.

Iraq's mind drifted away from the thought of the almost phone call and back to her pained reality. For the past few months – years even – all she had wanted to do was just talk to her long lost husband. Apologize for causing him so much pain and for dragging him into so many unnecessary issues and fights. Since the war had ended she had tried hard to get these words to him in any way she could. Emails that were left unsent, letters lying out of their unaddressed envelopes, and phone calls ended by slamming down on the receiver.

Iraq rose from her chair and walked to the edge of the balcony, watching the sun as it stooped below the horizon, leaving behind only a faint glow of pink and orange. Her eyes were shielded by her lids and she leaned onto the railing, letting the now cold wind brush over her face and neck.

One more time…one more time. Her mind was urging her to go, go and get the phone. Pick it up, dial, if he answers _speak_ and if he doesn't leave a message. Get the word through to him. Before she could register what she was doing, her thoughts took over her actions as she reached into her bedroom, snatching the phone off the hook, and starting dialing Iran's number.

Every ringing was another beat of her heart she was sure would make it explode. Another two seconds of waiting, another two seconds of anticipation, another two seconds of fear...

Her mind starting trailing with the sound.

_Ring…ring…ring…ri-click._

"Hello, this is Huda."

Iraq's heart leapt as she waited for the sentence to continue, informing her that he was not home at the time and she would have to leave a message. Instead she heard air, a soft wind blowing into the phone for a few seconds… breath.

"Hello…?" His voice resounded. She could see him so perfectly in her mind's eye looking at the display of the phone to see if the call had dropped and then placing it back to his ear. More in fear of him hanging up than of having to speak, she took a large breath and felt her heart grow to the size of the set sun.

"H-Hello Huda…it's me, Aasera."

There was a long pause.

"Hello…how are you?"

How could he remain so well composed and poised while she was over in her own land, shaking like a leaf, palms trembling and heart pounding? "Fine…better. Much better…"

"So I've heard."

Another long period of silence. Don't let him get bored…don't let him hang up! Keep talking, spit it out, tell him what you called for. Just say it… you love him don't you?

"Huda I-I…I wanted to apologize for…everything. The fighting, the worry I caused you… just everything. I know I had a horrible temper and I know I screamed every chance I got but I'm trying to change… the war is over and I'm trying to make peace, I really truly am. I'm just… I'm so sorry…I'm so sorry I hurt you so badly back then..."

Her voice was followed by an even longer silence. She bit her lip as her mind kept reeling, kept thinking, forming a sentence that rolled off her tongue before she could register that it was even bubbling up her throat.

"I love you Huda, I want you to come home."

An immediate response followed. "You always pick to call at the worst times Aasera…"

"I-I'm sorry. If I caught you at a bad time I can hang up and you can return my call-"

She was cut off by Iran's laugh, deep throated and sincere. "You called me right as I was packing my things. I'll be home soon, love."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

To him, and to many others, it was seemingly unbelievable that he was standing here atop this hillside looking out at the waves of gold, waving gently in the wind, while breathed continued to leave and enter his chest. To others, this feat was impossible. Just the very act of him standing and breathing was something straight out of a fairy tale. To him, it was a triumph.

He was alive.

Though it certainly had been a struggle to remain that way.

Lithuania raised a hand to gently brush his shoulder, finger tips grazing over the slight protrusion in the smooth fabric of his shirt caused by heavy gauze bandaging. It was a struggle indeed and what a struggle it was. A struggle to keep breathing, a struggle to keep fighting the pain, a struggle to not allow himself to sleep, but the largest struggle was forcing himself to talk. The largest struggle he faced that horrid day was resisting the overwhelming exhaustion and pursuing whatever non-existent energy he had left to keep words flowing from his lips.

Lithuania was trying desperately to keep his mind from going back to that day. He didn't want to remember it anymore. With the newfound peace that was gracing the world, he wanted nothing more than to leave the past behind him and start over. A fresh beginning and a new life had been something he had been craving for years on end. Now when he finally received the chance to get it, his mind couldn't think of anything but the past.

The past was truly something he hated thinking about, dreaded even dawning upon. While most people felt a warm sense of nostalgia for their past years, the Lithuanian felt nothing but pain and shame. There had been good days but the bad heavily outweighed them. On most occasions, when questioned about his childhood by kinder strangers, he simply laughed it off and said he barely remembered it. However much of a lie it was, it kept them from asking any further.

He turned his emerald eyes to the sky and he let his top teeth run over his bottom lip. If he wanted this bright beautiful future so horribly why was he thinking about the past so much more often? No matter how much he tried, he couldn't get it off his mind. Small flashes from his much younger years randomly popped into his head, a few from young adult hood, but most memories had one defining element that made them similar…

Russia. This man had been completely lodged his mind ever since…that day. That grin would leave his mind's vision and his laugh was stuck in his head like a bad song on repeat. Even now, as he was still trying to fight off the memories, his glowing violet eyes were staring him down as a gun was being pointed at his forehead. Lithuania had remained frozen where he lay slumped against the wall. He had known any movement could have set the Russian off.

"I'll save you Lithuania. No one will be able to hurt you after this. No one can give you any more scars or cause you any more pain. You'll never cry again and you'll never have to fight. You can finally be happy Lithuania." Lithuania's stomach dropped when he heard the click of the gun, unwillingly envisioning bullets snapping into place. He knew he didn't have much time; he needed to find a way out of here…somehow…anything.

"I'll miss you so much Toris."

The words rolled off his tongue. "I'll miss you too Ivan… I love you." Though they were almost too late. Russia's eyes widened and his hand dropped, though his action was not stopped. A loud bang echoed throughout the room and Lithuania screamed as searing hot pain shot through his left shoulder. Lithuania had fallen onto his side gasping as he clutched his shoulder, warm blood oozing from in between his fingers.

Russia had just stood over him gaping. Surprised at possibly what he had just done, the smoking gun in his hand not being proof enough, and quite possibly surprised at what the Lithuanian had just said. He stooped onto his knees, his eyes still confused but now a sparkle of hope in them, and asked softly "What did you say Toris?"

Did the blood gushing from his body not exist to Russia? Was this all an act to him? Lithuania knew though if he wanted to live through this he would have to keep talking… just like the old days…

"I said…I love you Ivan…"

"Toris are you lying to me?"

"No, I wouldn't lie…to you about this." Lithuania paused to hold back a scream of pain. It almost felt as though his flesh was being torn straight off the bone. Help…he needed help. He couldn't die like this… "I really do Ivan…"

Russia said nothing for a long time. Russia just looked down and stared at him, purple eyes examining every single part of him. Could Russia see lies like stains on your clothes? Of course not, that was impossible…keep talking. Live. "Please Ivan…don't let me die. If… you save me then we can… be happy."

However much it hurt to do, Lithuania raised the hand that was gripping his shoulder up to the Russian's face and cupped his cheek, leaving a bloody hand print. He fought the excruciating pain and said "We can… be together and I'll never…leave again. Just don't let me…die Ivan otherwise it'll never…happen. Please Ivan… don't let me…"

The next thing Lithuania remembered was waking up in a hospital bed in even more pain. It hadn't been a pleasant experience and by no means a pleasant recovery. Then why… did his mind keep returning to that day? Returning to the shame, the horror, and the pain? Maybe perhaps because Russia had almost killed him or had saved his life?

Lithuania's shoulder started to ache once again, reminding him of the doctor's order to take it easy. He sighed softly and turned to head back into the house which was only a few feet away but was met with the sight of something…odd.

A bouquet of bright yellow sunflowers lay at his feet. He would have stepped on them if weren't for the bright blue bow that held them all together. His eyes trailed up from the flowers to the horizon in front of him and he froze, a deer in the headlights.

"Hello Toris…" Russia was standing only twenty feet at most away from him. His arms were at his sides and Lithuania couldn't see a weapon of any sort on him. How had he gotten these flowers right behind him without him knowing? How long had he been standing there? "I didn't come to hurt you Toris… I came to just…talk."

Little did Russia know, he would be doing all of the speaking. Toris hadn't said a word since the incident. "I won't come any closer, I promise. Those flowers are for you…if you want them, to get better. And also to apologize…"

As Russia paused Lithuania forced his muscles to relax to prevent his shoulder from cramping worse. Lithuania was still angry with Russia, he always had been, but that didn't mean he wasn't willing to listen. Lithuania continued to stare on at Russia as he continued to speak. "I've been apologizing to a good deal of people but the entire time I was, I knew I owed you the largest. I couldn't think of the words. I still can't entirely. Toris I…"

There was certain calmness to his voice. He almost sounded tired, exhausted, as though he had been fighting to stay alive as well. "I'm sorry. For…everything. For back then for now. I'm sorry for hurting you so many times and for not stopping, for being so selfish, for being so horrible. The hurt I've caused you… I'm paying for it Toris." Lithuania could see deep set rings about both of the Russian's eyes as he looked closer and Russia was beginning to look thinner than he should.

"I know you don't want to hear it Toris but I do love you, I truly do. I've never showed it to you, only lashed out at you. I couldn't believe someone made me feel that way… though I know I have no excuse. There is no excuse for how I acted… I don't expect you to forgive me Toris and I know my apology doesn't even deserve your acceptance…"

Russia paused once again and hung his head in seldom, looking utterly defeated. "I'm just hoping foolishly… one day we can be friends…"

Lithuania's eyes surveyed first the flowers lying at his feet. They appeared fresh and from Lithuania's memory of Russia's small garden, home grown. Out of all the minute apologies Russia had said to him, none of them included flowers. True, Lithuania thought, he could have gone much farther than flowers but everyone was feeling run down these days…a better apology would come in time.

His eyes once again looked back up to Russia who almost looked childish stand there with his hands lying limp and face turned to the ground. His sandy blonde hair was messy and his scarf was swaying in the wind, almost looking like it wanted to fly off its owner's neck…but it was rooted there.

That's when it dawned on Lithuania. The future he wanted was in front of him, as open as the sky with as many possibilities as the stars in it. Embracing his future didn't mean forgetting his past completely, it meant being able to accept it but be open to new views and a brighter tomorrow. It meant being able to defy what he had learned… and be able to look at something completely different.

Slowly, Lithuania bent down and picked up his flowers, cradling them in his elbow. He took his time as he walked towards the taller man and stopped in front of him. Lithuania's green eyes met Russia's violet.

"We will be one day Ivan." With that, Lithuania offered Russia a small but warm smile and an invitation inside for a cup of tea.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"I really wished you could have seen your face. It was hilarious. I mean for a second I thought you were actually going to put a hole through my skull, but then-"

"I'v h'rd th's story en'gh D'n-"

"Hey I think it's funny, I don't know why you don't! Anyway, I thought you were seriously going to kill me but then your eyes got this funny shine to them and you turned around for a second. I thought you had to reload your gun but then I realized you were actually crying."

"Ok D'n tha's en'gh!" Sweden attempted to jokingly clasp a hand over the Dane's mouth, only receiving a laugh and his hand being pushed away. Denmark's eyes shone with mischief as he continued to speak.

"Remember what I did after that?" Again Sweden tried to cover his mouth, this time by pinning Denmark underneath him and covering his lips, but Denmark twisted his head and kept talking. "Well since you're trying to shut me up you probably don't remember but, I got up, which wasn't easy with bound hands, and put my chin on your shoulder until you clung to me. Though I didn't cry because I never cry!" The Dane flashed the man above him a bright grin as the Swede rolled off and turned over onto his side on his side of the bed.

Sweden tried his best to ignore Denmark for the time being – he had already noticed that the clock displayed the time being at almost midnight – and focus on sleeping. He did have things to do tomorrow the required rest and he should be able to sleep through another one of Denmark's blown-out-of-proportion stories… even if this one did have some truth to it. Though Sweden knew, if he actually listened to Denmark's antics, the gears of his mind would start whirling and sleep wouldn't come for hours. Denmark always had a way of doing that, of getting into his head.

Sweden had never been able to identify if hated or liked that aspect of the Dane. On one hand it could mean he was a manipulative, cocky bastard and on the other it could just mean that Denmark knew him better than anyone else. Sweden supposed he would have to get used to the latter way of thinking again. He was trying to think a bit more on the positive side about Denmark and Denmark was trying to respect his boundaries and privacies.

Though of course that didn't stop Denmark from using the last of the hot water in the shower and most certainly didn't stop Sweden from snapping at Denmark over something trivial. It was a learning process. At the moment, he couldn't help but think positive about Denmark's chatter.

At least Denmark was talking.

After the Canadian invasion incident, complete with unpleasant memories of Denmark almost killing Canada completely and Denmark almost killing Sweden himself for that matter (and the awful twisted grin on the Dane's face), Denmark had faded away into unconsciousness once in the hospital. Sweden's wounds were considered cuts and bruises in comparison so there was no need to for him to stay long. Sweden had wandered down the hallway, with full intention of walking straight out the front door, when his eyes fell to Denmark's room and his feet shortly thereafter, followed. Denmark's eyes had been closed and body limp, various bandages and dark bruises covering his face and arms. Sweden hadn't been able to believe it, but he found himself pulling up a chair next to his bed and resting his head on the edge of the mattress.

What was even more unbelievable was the smile Denmark gave him when he woke up three days later. Sweden had still been planted right next to his bed in the chair, reading an old book he had found laying around, when he was interrupted by a soft rustling and slender fingers playing with a few stray hairs in the back of his head. "Nice to see you…Berwald. Really nice…"

After that, the best way to phrase would be to say that things just fell into place. Sweden considered leaving after Denmark woke up, but never did. Denmark was going to yell at Sweden for pointing a gun at his head, but instead was happy he didn't pull the trigger. Sweden was only going to visit Denmark that one day, but ended up coming back every day of the week and soon every day of the month. Denmark was going to tell Sweden to go home and stop bothering him, but always ended up pleading the nurse to allow Sweden to stay five minutes past visiting hours. Sweden was just going to give Denmark a ride home from the hospital the day he got out, but ended up staying for dinner. Denmark was just going to walk Sweden to the front door and say goodbye there, but ended up giving into his weak heart and kissing him. Sweden ended up kissing him back.

Apologies were whispered softly through breaks for air, forgiveness was given through the long missed embraces, and for that one moment in far too long of a time of fighting and harsh words and bitterness… everything was okay. Nowhere near perfect…but the both of them were fine with it being that way.

It didn't take long for Sweden to move back in, though it did take much effort on Denmark's part to bring him back. How many times Denmark held his hand and offered the Swede book length heartfelt apologies. The times that Denmark had to convince Sweden that there would be no relapse of the previous time they lived in the same house. The promise that no freedom would be taken away and this was of no political matter, just out of pure emotional want.

However happy he was, Denmark wasn't the same as he had been before the war. The Dane, who was usually outgoing and almost obnoxiously lively, was now withdrawn and near silent. Denmark didn't speak unless it was necessary, the corners of his mouth were constantly turned down, and most days he spent in his office, working for hours on end. Not that Sweden did much different, work and getting things in order came first these days, but he had to admit it would have been nice to hear more than three words from his lover at the dinner table.

Sweden also noticed the downtrodden look in Denmark's eyes. They were almost always looking down at the floor and constantly avoiding making any contacts with anyone else. Sweden could tell something was on Denmark's mind – stress, pain, life in general – but he knew he would have to pull the Dane's teeth before he would get a word out of him.

Thankfully though, his unbearable silence was starting to wear off, mostly when the two were alone together. If others were around, Denmark would act silent and secluded, keeping a large distance between himself and everyone else. However, when Denmark was with Sweden, he would randomly pop into the room Sweden was in and speak quietly for a few moments, eventually becoming more and more like his old self. Like now for example. When they had both gotten into bed at ten, the other man hadn't said a word, but now it was as if the terrors of war hadn't ravaged his mind.

Sweden's mind snapped out of his thoughts, mentally slapping himself for giving into daydreams, and another look at the clock revealed it was half past midnight. Denmark had fallen silent so Sweden wondered if he was asleep. He lay there still for a while, staring at the clock and listening to the sounds of the other man breathe. He had forgotten how lonely it was sleeping alone and how great it was to have someone near you as you were falling asleep. Sweden thought about rolling over throw an arm over the other man in the bed, but was beat to it.

Denmark, who as it turned out had not been asleep, turned over and curled an arm around Sweden's waist, resting his face at the base of his neck. "Can I tell you something Berwald…?"

"Hm…?"

Denmark's voice became quiet again, though this time it was peacefully serene instead of the now usual melancholy. Sweden could feel the brush of his lashes against his neck as he said, "When you were clinging to me and when you were crying… I was crying too. I was afraid that was going to be the very last time I saw you and even now… I'm scared you're going to leave again."

"'S th't why y've b'n s' qui't?"

Even though Denmark didn't respond, Sweden knew the answer was yes. In response, and it could have been the best answer Denmark could have asked for, Sweden silently turned over in bed and held the other man close. A thousand things to talk about were racing through the Swede's mind.

Was Denmark feeling alright? Was there anything he could do? Had everything been doing alright political wise? How about emotional? When had he developed that crazed smile he once saw? Why was he acting so strange that day? Would that side of him ever go away? Could Sweden handle it next time? Could Denmark handle it next time? Could the both of them make this work? Could the both of them put up with each other?

Maybe. Everything was a maybe. For now though, that was alright. They would work it out in the future. Denmark's fiery personality would come back. Peace would grace the both of them and everything would turn out okay…eventually.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

However torn apart the world was, however controversial every single matter was, however disagreeable everyone was, and however difficult things were to discuss, there was only one matter that was completely certain. One issue that was finalized without anyone needing to discuss a word of it.

World meetings were dreadful these days, for many reasons. Sorrowful faces adorned every chair in the large room; every smile disappeared as soon as one's hand touched the door knob. Eyes were never lifted an inch higher than necessary – necessary in this case was the floor – and voices were always hardly audible. Hands fidgeted in laps nervously, lips were bitten, hair twirled, and hearts heavy. There was always an overwhelming sense of doom in the room, even if all the windows had been opened and the sun was shining. A heavy presence of guilt and shame, mixed with regret and anger.

And there was always that empty chair.

No one dared to touch it. Most hardly even looked in its direction. No one spoke of it or did a thing about it. Every single nation simply let it sit there, without a place marker and without a glass of water. Even without a name card, everyone already knew who this chair belonged to though no one dare speak the name.

This name however floated through the air like a winter breeze. It would float about carelessly, deciding to chill someone's neck but remain distant to another. It would interrupt a speech from America, halt France's pen from taking notes, almost choke China as he was taking a sip of water, and strangle the air out of everywhere as it wrapped around their necks.

_Italy…Italy…Italy…_

It wasn't just a name. It was an absence, a void, a deep well, an ache, a missing piece, and an object of guilt. It caused South Italy's head to drop into his hands. It made Japan's jaw clench and hands fist tightly. It made Russia's stomach churn with deepest regret and eyes close. But most of all, it had forced Germany to plummet from life to almost a zombie like state. Germany was a mess.

At meetings he hardly ever spoke, barely even made a sound. His eyes never so much even glanced up from his folded hands. He never showed any emotion, except for the occasional scowl or heartbroken sigh which was still far too quiet to hear. No one could see it, but his heart had been completely shattered into pieces. Every beat hurt worse than the last. Every breath was an effort. Even blinking was exhausting to him. All fight had left him. All hope had vanished alongside Italy. The only thing that remained was a cold, lifeless shell.

Others had started off worrying about his well being, wondering if was ever going to speak again, though each time someone tried to approach him to try and talk to him, he would silently rise and walk away. By now, everyone had learned to let him sift through his own thoughts. Hopefully, Germany would find a way to pull himself out of his sadness while everyone else was trying to pull themselves out of the hole they dug themselves into.

Germany, on this certain day, sat silently per usual while listening to every country go down the line and speak their part. England was looking for new ways to pay off war debts; France was trying to fund rebuilding projects for damaged cities. It was all the same to him. Everyone was trying to fix themselves while trying to fix others at the same time. He knew progress was a great thing to have happening, but to him, none of it mattered. At the present, no matter how business oriented he tried to keep his brain, Germany didn't care if he ever paid everything off. He didn't care if other countries would ever fully trust him again. He didn't even care if he lived to see another day. Everything was black and dark, pointless.

Germany had never felt so alone. He felt completely on the outside. Japan had been reconnecting with China; brothers were brothers after all, which of course made the pangs of loneliness even worse. America and England, brothers who could have been considered father and son, were also becoming close again. France and Canada, the Koreas, Scandinavia. Everyone was closer. To family, to siblings. Even lovers were starting to bond again.

But what about him?

Where was his love?

Where was his connection?

Where was his happy ending?

Where was his brother?

Where was his lover?

That's right, passed away. Gone. In a better place. Never coming back. Never returning. Alone. He was alone. For good. Neither Italy nor Prussia were ever going to return. Never again was Prussia going to clamp a hand on his shoulder and tell him about a joke he had heard. Never again was Italy going to show up at his front door step unannounced with a plate of food made for me. Never again was Prussia going to rub his head when it was aching and tell him that he needed to relax. Never again was Italy going to reassure Germany that if ever needed to cry, he would never tell anyone and that he was there for. He was never going to see either of their faces again, never going to hear them laugh…

Germany was so far gone into his thoughts and sadness it hadn't a clue that the entire room had been staring at him. His first inclination was that the entire room had fallen silent, the second being someone softly calling his name. His eyes flicked to its origin and he saw England, more or less the neck down of England, looking at him.

"Germany… did you hear me a few seconds ago?" Germany shook his head to replace his speech once again.

The nation stood there for a moment, not saying anything either, while pulling nervously at his gloves. His cleared his throat twice before repeating the question that Germany hadn't heard the first time.

"Russia asked you if he may have a word…" Germany's eyes suddenly became livid. Russia. Just the name sent hot flashes of anger through his body. Germany had refused – outright refused – to speak or even look in the man's direction. And now he wanted to speak with him? No. Absolutely not. Why should Germany give him that privilege? Why should he give him the time of day? It was ludicrous to even ask him such a thing. He envisioned himself shaking his head no again, but didn't have time to actually act upon it before Russia started to speak.

"I would like to… say a few words of apology. Not only to you Germany but to this whole room and to…to North Italy." As the name rolled off his tongue, the entire room froze and everyone seemed to stop breathing. "I was…illogical. I wasn't thinking. I wasn't…right in my head. That's no excuse, I know… but please know, just because I was cruel does not mean I am not sorry… I regret what I did… I regret it all.

I know you don't forgive me Ludwig, I could tell you that before I even started talking, but I just hope you know that I hate what I did. Wherever Veneziano may be…I know he is in a far better place. I know that he would want you of all people to be happy and to… embrace this peace all of us are finding.

We all miss him in our own ways and we all know… it's not the same without him. I am so sorry for the pain I caused you…I am so sorry I caused Veneziano's passing… and Ludwig…?

I have never forgiven myself for what I did to Gilbert. Your brother loved you very much…"

That was it. Germany couldn't take it anymore. He had to get out of there. He couldn't be in the same room as this man anymore. He couldn't be in the same room with any of these people anymore. He couldn't take any more of these familiar faces. The faces of the people who had surrounded him for so many years. The faces of the people who his brother and Italy had been familiar with. All of them bore resemblance to each other. Personality traits, facial characteristics, experiences, enemies, allies, everyone was so similar. To him, to Italy, to everyone.

Without feeling the ground beneath his feet, Germany launched himself from his chair and went flying out the door. Soon enough the room was far behind him, the other's yells were distant, the hallways didn't exist, the doors leading outside were gone and there was only air and running. Running from everything. The pain. The fear. The loss. The ache. The sadness. The anger. Himself.

His knees were trembling and his legs were burning by the time he finally stopped. His eyes were wide and red as he stared in front of him, chest heaving up and down heavily.

The ocean…

And then, Germany sobbed. Germany dropped to his knees as if in surrender and threw his head to the sky screaming. His eyes clenched but that didn't stop the tears from falling down his face. His hands clenched his forehead as he dropped his head, body wracking with each cry. Every sob brought another with it, every flash of pain continued further. For every tear there were five more. For every thought of Italy, there was ten to follow. Germany had no idea how much more he could take.

Why couldn't he just die? He would be happier…he could be with Italy again! He could finally be with Italy! He could finally love him properly; have the lives they had both always wanted! He could hold him and kiss him every day! Just see him again! Why couldn't he just die?

He hadn't even realized he had been screaming these words, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything…only the pain was present. Just the pain…

"Why…why can't you have mercy on me…? Why can't I die…? Why can't I just die…? Why do I have to still be here…?" Germany's voice shook with each word, every breath, every beat. Who he was talking to? He hadn't a clue…anyone who would listen…anyone.

"Because I don't want you dead…"

Germany's head jerked to look behind him.

His heart stopped beating.

His breath left him.

The pain flooded away from him.

Everything was gone…and everything returned.

Italy was standing there. Smiling. Breathing. Hair blowing gently in the wind. Healed. Eyes glowing in the sunlight. Skin without a flaw or scratch. Real.

Alive.

"I-Italy…h-how I thought-"

"I don't like hearing you cry Ludwig…it hurts me too…please don't cry anymore. I heard you screaming and crying and it made me scared… I followed your voice here. I thought maybe I could help… maybe I could make you feel better…

I wanted to come back and be with you Ludwig…"

Without thinking, without any questions he ran forward. New tears sprouted from his eyes, tears of joy. His arms out stretched and pulled Italy in tightly, but of course not tight enough. His hair wound into his soft brown hair and he pressed his lips to forehead, cheeks, nose, neck, anywhere he could find.

"Italy I'm so so-"

"It's not your fault, it's not your fault. Please no more apologies, ve?" Italy smiled up at the German, body trembling and hand running over his cheek in comfort. "We can start all over. We can start again. Okay? Let's just start over okay?"

Germany nodded fiercely and kissed his lover with an even stronger passion, keeping him held close in his arms. "I love you Veneziano…I love you…"

"I love you Ludwig…"

And as they both kissed before the sunset, a promise of love and peace bestowing them, all the ties that were once snapped and strained and broken...were now once again...bonded.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_That's where this tale ends I guess. Though I guess I shouldn't call it tale since everything that happened was true, not like anyone is ever going to read these words. Just in case you're wondering, if you're even there, things turned out for the better. Last I heard the world was shaping up. Relief efforts were being put into place, more and more people were becoming friends and helping each other, though that's all boring stuff to me. There isn't an end to this story. Just another beginning._

_Another set of words I would have to give you and another story to tell you. Though I don't know what happens next, I was never sure what would happen next. Fault of mine I suppose. I will tell you something though, being a nation is easy. It's easy to deal with politics and even easier to sign your name on ten thousand papers. What's not easy is the emotions that go with it._

_Try watching close friends of yours fade away into nothing because of what their boss did and be fine with it. Try watching your own landmarks burn to the ground and be "okay". It's not easy. However, I've already said enough, yammered your ear off long enough._

_Though, I ask of you one more thing._

_If anyone ever finds these papers and ever takes the time to read each word could you do me a favor? Could you tell West that I would have come back to visit him if I wanted? I had the power again to go back down but I gave it to Italy, I knew it would make him happy. Thank you._

_Also…_

…_tell him that I love him._

_Danke._

_**Das Ende**  
_


End file.
